For King and Country: The Long Road Home
by Rogue Trooper 2.0
Summary: After the Battle for Light's Hope, a newly freed deathknight and an angry, foul-mouthed paladin are tasked with reaching Stormwind to rouse the Alliance to war. **Coarse language and violence.** Please R&R.
1. Chapter 1

***Obligatory caveat: Based on the game World Of Warcraft, though all original characters are the creation of myself or other players. All Warcraft stuff is the property of Blizzard Entertainment and I promise I'll put it back when I'm done playing around with it. This work is not intended for profit, only to stave off boredom, however if Blizz would like to pay me to write some day, that would be spiffy. Contains language and depictions of violence that may offend.***

One.

The rain pelted down, drumming upon her helm and turning the foul red soil into a mire resembling coagulating blood. _Light give me strength…I'm coming, Joscelin. _ The heavily armoured destrier beneath her lashed out with savage jaws and ripped at the fetid limbs and faces of the shambling undead that closed about them. She had lost sight of Joscelin not long after the wedge of deathknights, led by Mograine himself, had burst through the trees near Browman's Mill.

The inarticulate snarls and gabbling of the undead masses nearly drowned out the screams of the dying as the Paladin lay about her with swords and shield. Sharp, clawed fingers slashed and ripped at her mount while rusted swords and axes battered at her from all sides. Most of the blows that landed skipped off her shield, but some of them tore through her armour, mail and boiled leather to leave a roadmap of bleeding wounds upon both her and her steed. Rotting flesh and extremities fell to the mud with wet plopping sounds as she cut a swath of righteous destruction about her. The beast she rode, Valiant, rolled across the field like an avalanche of horseflesh and barding, all but the strongest of the Scourge falling beneath the onslaught of rough-shod hooves and crushing teeth. Taliah no longer thought, merely reacted to the slaughter going on around her but even in the back of her mind, she knew things were going badly. There had been only three hundred brave souls who stood with Tirion Fordring when the battle for Light's Hope had begun. The paladin saw far fewer than that now.

Valiant stumbled as he was rammed from the left and Taliah barely got her shield up in time to block the powerful strike that would have taken her arm off at the shoulder. The blow rattled her to the bone and would have unseated her had the destrier not recovered his footing. As it was, the impact of the deathknight's charger had caused her own to slide sideways a good ten paces. Again the eerily silent attacker hacked at her with a smoking, rune-etched sword, the dead man's eyes glowing eldritch blue from the slit in his visor while his undead steed snapped and kicked at her own. Twisting in the saddle, Taliah warded off then another bone-jarring blow, deflecting the deathknight's heavy greatsword towards his own charger's head. The sweep of the blade took the top half of the animal head off in a shower of black ichor, but more importantly, it exposed the vulnerable under-arm of its rider. With a snarl, Taliah called upon the Light and white fire ignited with a roar along the length of her hand-and-a half, the orange runes of the exquisite blade flaring to gold. Her eyes flared white, glowing like banked coals through her full visor and with a sharp thrust, buried two feet of consecrated mithril into the chink in the deathknight's armour. Valiant sprang away from the now truly dead man and the flaming, ichor stained sword pulled from the wound with an audible tearing sound. The gash smoked and the foul blood upon the Light imbued blade did the same before it boiled away in black mist. The deathknight slumped in the saddle before falling from his crumpling charger.

_So many_… The white glow of her sword began to encompass both horse and rider. Lesser Scourge shrieked as Valiant waded into them, the Light searing their befouled flesh and causing them to fall back and collapse. She could feel the dying and desperation all about her as she gave herself over wholly to the Call. She could feel every living thing around her, men and horses. Tirion Fordring and Mirador, Joscelin and Storm, that silly druid who was always trying to make something grow in the poisoned earth near Light's Hope.

_Give me strength…_The entire battlefield seemed to grow somehow still, and the very air became heavy and oppressive. Something terribly dark and somehow horrifyingly familiar had entered the battle, and it made her guts turn to water. Somewhere, on the other side of the battle, the Lich King was among them. The Scourge seemed thinner as she neared Browman Mill and she followed Joscelin's presence in the Light. Most of the walking corpses shuddered and collapsed as she swept past. They lay twitching in the mud as the horse and rider thundered towards the ruined town, Valiant more than earning his name as he galloped doggedly on despite his fatigue. She focused, not on the thing that was once Arthas Menethil, but on Joscelin and his sudden spike of fear. _By the Light.. no!_

Taliah saw him as Valiant burst through a copse of withered evergreens. Storm lay screaming and thrashing in the mud, the haemorrhaging stumps of his forelegs flailing, severed at the knees. The deathknight Harkness fought deflect the tired and obviously wounded paladin's greatsword away with a mighty sweep of his own huge black blade. The deathknight laughed and planted a powerful kick to Joscelin's chest, sending the exhausted man sliding back on his knees and lunged forward. He held his smoking runeblade in both hands and thrust. Joscelin raised his blade, the steel shattering as the point of the deathknight's sword punched through plate, mail and leather and out the back of his armour.

The deathknight heard the thunder of hooves, but it was the inarticulate howl of grief and rage that really caught his attention. With a foot to Joscelin's chest the Scourge soldier kicked the mortally wounded man off his blade with a mocking laugh and turned to face the new threat. Horse and ride were wreathed in white flame that only grew more brilliant as they bore down upon him.

"Damn you!" she howled, the words were filled with fury she could barely contain. As she launched herself out of the saddle and at the deathknight, Taliah managed to focus on Fordring for a moment. She closed her eyes and gave herself completely to the Light, no longer caring if she lived of died. Power rushed through her and for the briefest moment, she saw what Tirion Fordring saw – a cursed blade, spinning through the air from Darion Mograine's hand, and the Ashbringer coming into the old paladin's possession while Arthas stood nearly over him in triumph. The Light rushed from her, adding to Tirion's own power and assaulted the defiled Blade, and the vision ended as she crashed bodily into the deathknight. The impact sent them both to the ground in a heap of flesh and armour. She felt something break in her hand and her ribs on contact with the much larger deathknight, but adrenalin damped the pain. As the paladin staggered to her feet, the deathknight rolled and lurched gracelessly to his own. The great runesword suddenly fell from his hand as his glowing blue eyes regarded her in a blank, almost confused manner. Nearby, Joscelin's destrier Storm gave a last agonized groan before growing still as stone.

She felt the evil that was once Prince Arthas weaken, and the very air tasted foul with his rage and frustration. As suddenly as his presence had been felt it was gone again, driven back by the Light and whatever had happened at Light's Hope. The sense of mindless evil that had shrouded the deathknight like a miasma was no longer present, but at the moment, Taliah didn't care. Her eyes burned in primal hatred and she advanced on him, though everything she perceived through the Light was telling her he wasn't a threat.

"T..Taliah.." the weak, choking voice reined in her anger where the Light could not, and only Joscelin's frail voice made her turn from the Deathknight who had fallen to his knees once more. Exhausted and battered, the paladin tore off her helm, letting it fall to the ground as she stumbled to Joscelin's side. The girl sank to her knees as he reached up to her with a bloodied, mailed hand.

"Be still Joss." She implored, her armour grating against his as she pulled the wounded man into her lap. The muddy ground was awash in crimson that flowed in a torrent from the wound, both from point of entry and exit. The paladin pulled off Joscelin's helm, discarding it in the muck and smoothed the lank red-gold hair from his eyes. Taliah placed a hand on his chest, opening herself to the Light, but her earlier efforts had drained her to the point of near collapse. Tears ran down her dirt and mud streaked face as Joscelin's shaking hand reached up to stroke her cheek. "Please.. I don't have the strength you heal you. I have to get you to Light's Hope…"

He smiled up at her tenderly, his teeth stained red as blood trickled from the corner of his mouth and into the red beard that hugged his rugged jaw. "It's… to late for me, Taliah." His was voice barely a whisper. Joscelin's blue eyes drifted a moment from her face, his gaze becoming unfocused.

"No.. oh by the Light no." tears blurred her vision and she blinked, causing them to spill down her cheeks and fall to his armour with a soft tapping sound. She hadn't even noticed it had stopped raining. "Please, don't leave me, Joss… you're all I have left." Harkness's breathing was slow and shallow and he looked tired.

"…we will meet again, love." He coughed up a mouthful of blood "Have faith…" Joscelin's body shuddered in her arms and went still, his hand falling from her face to the mud. Taliah called his name, shaking him, but he did not move.

"…what have I done…?" the hollow, ethereal voice that came from close behind startled her, and Taliah lurched to her feet. It sounded bewildered, angry and repentant all at once. Sword in hand, she turned on the deathknight who held up his hands as though they could shield him from her fury. The paladin shook as she glowered at the much taller man, though whether it was from hatred or exhaustion, he could not say. He gave ground as she advanced, his hand still held up defensively.

"You have given me one less reason to live, you mindless, murdering piece of shit." The young woman's words dripped malice and while part of her desperately wanted to gut the confused dead man before her, something held her back. "Crawl back to whatever hole you climbed out of. May the remainder of your days be as wretched as you've made mine." She spat, turning away from him and back to the body of her beloved. Kneeling once more, she pulled his still body to her. Unable to contain her grief, the paladin's shoulders hunched and Taliah sobbed quietly, her forehead pressed to Joscelin's.

The deathknight lingered in silence a short distance away, wary of the grieving paladin and the destrier who circled them both like a hungry mountain cat. Necrucian's own mount Acharon, who had bolted when he and the dead paladin had rammed each other, picked its way through the mud. The living destrier, its barding scratched and torn, bellowed and charged, ear pinned and jaws gapping, but the Deathknight managed to ward him off with a hard slap on the neck administered by the flat of his blade. After what felt like an eternity, the paladin slumped against her dead companion and grew still. Her steed still stood between them, tossing his head threateningly every time Necrucian tried to approach. Finally, the Deathknight again slapped at the animal with the flat of his sword and while the destrier kicked and snapped at him, it also moved away.

The paladin did not move and Necrucian thought her dead for a moment. She was covered in black and green ichor and mud, and the deathknight did not know how much of the crimson blood soaking her armour belonged to her or to her dead companion. The young woman's armour was rent in a dozen places, scored flesh leaking blood into the ground. She seemed to be unconscious and while none of the wounds looked to be fatal individually, the sum of them might do her in. Approaching cautiously, he put a hand to her shoulder and Taliah fell back, measuring her length upon the poisoned soil of the Plaguelands.

Her charger paced angrily a few dozen yards away as Necrucian removed his heavy black cloak and wrapped the dead man within. He and the paladin were nearly of height and weakened as he was, Necrucian wrestled with the dead, armoured weight to drape the body behind Acharon's saddle. When he tried to do the same to the women, her miserable bastard of a destrier again charged him, with even more aggression than before. The animal's eyes rolled white in rage as it bore down on him, nearly running him down. Necrucian had not the strength to run, instead landing a plate-gauntleted punch to the animal's jaw as he dodged away. The horse's legs folded and the beast went down in a heap, sliding through the mud before coming to rest at the base of a gnarled, dead pine. Its legs kicked out as it lay stunned and the deathknight caught the young woman by the gorget, hauling her from the mud and placing her awkwardly in the saddle before swinging up behind her. Big as he was, Acharon would not have been able to handle the load had he still been living, breathing flesh and still found the load difficult in the sloppy, sucking mud.

Tirion Fordring stood solemn and silent, his gaze sweeping over the slaughter before him. He had just received the butcher's bill - more than one third of the defenders had been slain. Fordring was far from unscathed; every muscled, every sinew ached from the darkness that the Lich King himself had used in his assault upon him. The very air still seemed to carry a fel taint to it. He wanted nothing more than to find a quiet corner to collapse, but the survivors needed him. They needed to see him strong and defiant amidst the chaos and confusion of the battle's aftermath that had seen mortal enemies suddenly become confused and angry allies.

The Ashbringer sat sheathed at his hip, pulsating with Light. Tirion did not know from where the vast font of power that had used him to cleanse the sword had come from, but he was thankful for it. It had been as though the Light has just been lying in wait for the moment that the Lich's King's grip on Mograine would weaken. Without the fabled blade, the Battle for Light's Hope would have concluded in a very different manner, of that he was sure. At his hip, he was certain, was the instrument of the Lich King's destruction.

"My Lord." A tired corporal in battered armour saluted "Lady Taliah and Lord Joscelin have not yet been accounted for." They had both been popular among the troops, always having words of encouragement or offering blessings of the Light to any who asked. Anyone who could still stand had volunteered to search once they had been discovered missing. The corporal continued, looking sick "Some of the bodies…were… were torn apart. We've not been able to identify.."

"Go and rest son. You've done all you can." Tirion put a hand to the young man's shoulder. The man, little more than a boy really, nodded glumly and walked off. As Fordring's thoughts shifted back to the immense upswell of power that had won the day, a stallion's angry bellows split the gathering dusk. It was a sound with all the charm of a ship's steel sides being pushed in by a reef and Fordring's head snapped to the north as Valiant came bucking and roaring from the shattered tree line. The destrier threw his head in fury and circled around at a clumsy, tired gallop, bucking in rage as a deathknight on an overburdened black charger plodded through the trees.

"By all that is Holy…" Fordring recognized the slumped form the deathknight supported before him in the saddle, while the shrouded form behind, draped across the undead steed's hindquarters could only be Joscelin Harkness. "Oh by the Light.. no.."


	2. Chapter 2

Two.

His grave, the soil still freshly turned, lay before her and despite her wounds, she kept vigil. Tirion had pleaded with her to stay under the healer's care until her wounds had mended, but Taliah had been unrelenting and they had parted that evening with harsh words. Unconscious for three days after the Battle for Light's Hope, she had not been present when they had committed Joscelin Harkness to the only piece of consecrated ground left in Lordaeron. Before sundown she had driven his sword into the ground, placing his battered helm upon pommel, a headstone befitting a warrior. She whispered prayers and benedictions, her voice occasionally breaking and tears spiking her dark lashes. 

Taliah stared at the mound of loamy earth, feeling empty and alone, though it was certainly not the first time. At the age of nine, her mother had given her into the care of the Silver Hand. When she was fourteen, Arthas, who had once been so kind to her, had betrayed and destroyed the country he was supposed to protect. Lord Gavinrad had met his fate at the business end of Frostmourn, as had Lord Uther. And now Joscelin was dead. All she had left was Valiant. 

As the night wore on, so did her pain and fatigue, but still she held vigil. Forsaking the comfort of the fire that burned low a half-dozen paces behind her, she knelt at her beloved's grave, her head bowed, Peacemaker resting across her thighs. Behind her, Valiant rustled his nosebag for the last of the oats within before giving up and gently bumping her shoulder with his muzzle. Taliah ignored him and the destrier gave a snort before resting his chin atop her head. In her grief, she did not hear the deathknight approach until he was almost on her.

Across the mound of earth, Necrucian took a knee and bowed his head in respect for the fallen paladin. In a fair fight, he reflected, he probably would have lost, but when he cut the paladin's mount's legs from under it, Harkness had been thrown hard. He'd hit the ground with enough force to drive the air from his lungs and break bones, but still the paladin had rose to meet him, if only to die on the end of Necrucian's sword. Taliah Dawnstar did not deign to look up at him.

"Fordring and Morgrain have given me a task and you're the only paladin who can still ride…." Necrucian cast a wary glance at the destrier who _did_ deign to look at him, and it was obvious Valiant had not forgotten the deathknight. "I'm sorry for the pain I have caused you, paladin."

"Fuck you, fuck Fordring and fuck your mission. Whatever it is, deathknight, you'll do it alone." She finally looked up at the deathknight without raising her head, and her eyes burned in hatred. The Light plucked at her consciousness like a nagging spouse, as though urging her to forgive the dead man, but she mentally shoved the sensation away. The surviving deathknights were no longer under the Lich King's control, but it didn't mean she had to like them.

The broken hand, healed by the cleric who had kept watch over Taliah for three straight days, seemed tender but none the worse for wear. Necrucian's watched the young woman's hands tighten about the battered scabbard that rested across her thighs as though to throttle it and he half expected her to lunge at him. Instead she got to her feet with obvious pain and difficulty, though she made a good show of hiding it. Valiant watched his mistress walk back to the fire before turning his hindquarters meaningfully in the deathknight's direction. The long black tail swatted dark, dapple-grey flanks in warning as the animal went back to chasing loose oats in his nosebag. Fordring hadn't been kidding when he'd warned him of the stallion's surly nature. He'd been equally correct in regards to its' rider's temperament as well.

The animal followed his paladin as a dog would its master and she tapped his shoulder gently as the stallion came to a stop near the guttering fire. Obediently, the destrier's legs folded and he lay in the drying mud. Taliah eased herself down with clenched teeth before the dying flames. She fed it a handful of branches from the pile next to her before the paladin leaned against the beast and pulled a mud-crusted blanket over her aching form. Encouraged, somewhat, by the fact that neither she nor her steed had attacked him, he sat opposite the paladin, sinking into the sodden ground. Acharon lingered nearby, silent and still as the grave Taliah kept vigil over. Neither spoke, and despite her best efforts, Taliah's eyelids had become too heavy to keep open. Sleep claimed her, and she dreamed of Joscelin 

_"Tired already?." Joscelin Harkeness smirked at the much smaller squire. He took up his bastard sword and stood, feet shoulder-width apart, as he demonstrated the 'at ready' position she was trying to master before beginning to work through some combat forms. The boy was skilled, which only made Taliah hate him more. "If you aren't strong enough to hold that pretty sword properly, I could probably find you a nice little broomstick." The practice yard was full of boys and young men, some with naked steel in their hands, others with wooden practice weapons, sparring and training together. By contrast, Taliah practiced alone in a corner of the lists while the other squires occasionally spared her a glace if only to quietly mock or snicker. Harkness had strolled into the practice yard and had been watching her for a while before deciding to bait her.___

_The mid-summer sun beat down on the dusty ground of the lists, baking the earth and those who occupied the training yard. "Bugger your broomstick." She shoved a hank of sweaty black curls from her reddened face and glared daggers at Harkness. Eyes the colour of angry winter clouds only added more menace to the curl of her fists. "I'll put a boot in your arse if you don't shut that hole under your nose."___

_"Apparently Lord Gavinrad hasn't gotten around to teaching you any manners either." Joss sniffed "Why he has chosen to waste time on some bastard is quiet perplexing. I wasn't aware that the Silver Hand was taking in the children of harlots." Other squires in the yard left off their practicing to watch the two, poking either other with elbows and whispering behind their hands.___

_Taliah turned slowly to face the taller boy. At ten-and-four, Harkess had three summers on her and a good four stone. His hands and feet seemed too big for the rest of him, suffering from what the Brothers called 'Colt's Years', but the boy's broad shoulders and chest held the promise of power yet to be realized. Compared to the noble-born squire, Taliah was gangly and thin but it didn't stop her from puffing out her yet-undeveloped chest like an angry bullfrog. The hand about the hilt of the incongruously ornate sword tightened, turning the knuckles white. "Shut your filthy gob." Her voice was low and soft, coming like a growl from between white teeth set in a dirty and sweaty face. "I swear by the Light I'll beat you bloody if you -ever- insult my mother again."___

_"I humbly beg your forgiveness, my Lady." Joscelin replied and gave her a mocking bow "I shall refrain from giving insult to your lady mother. I'm sure your father was a noble man who will one day claim you." Harkness had not expected Taliah to react quite a she did, indeed it seemed no one did as they all wore the same shocked expression when the girl launched at Joscelin's knees with a roar of outrage and anger.___

_Harkness toppled as though his legs had been cut from beneath him and the smaller squire scrambled up his length like a rabid squirrel to straddle his chest. Snarling curses that would have blistered the ears of even the saltiest sailor, Taliah's sword lay discarded upon the ground as she battered Joscelin unmercifully with her fists. A hard right broke the boy's nose and made him see stars, instantly clouding his vision with tears. Unperturbed by her opponent's blood-gushing proboscis, Taliah cocked back her fist again and Harkness could have sworn the girl's eyes glowed white.___

_Before she could get in another punishing blow, something caught the collar of her tunic and yanked her, kicking and snarling like a badger, into the air. "What, by all that is Holy, is going on here?"___

_Taliah's struggles ceased immediately and she suddenly hung from the mailed fist like a scruffed kitten. The audience that had previously been watching in shocked silence suddenly turned ashen and stood at attention as Gavinrad the Dire glowered at them. A jerk of his square chin sent them scurrying away, clearing the lists in a heartbeat. The girl swallowed audibly as she dangled at eye level with the big man who looked her up and down with a stone-faced expression of disapproval. Once sure his squire was chastened, he set Taliah back on her feet and pointed down at Harkness, who sat in the dirt wiping blood from his face. "Both of you." The paladin picked up Taliah's sword, the hand-and-a half runeblade 'Peacemaker', from its place in the dust and turned away, his heavy blue cloak swirling about him "Come with me."___

_Like two beaten puppies, the squires trailed behind the foreboding paladin in silence. Neither looked up from the ground, Joscelin still wiping gingerly at his nose while Taliah stuffed her hands deep into her pockets, shoulders hunched contritely. Gavinrad the Dire's stride did not falter, though he opened the door of the monastery chapel much more gently than his irritated demeanour should have allowed. ___

_The paladin and the two children approached the altar of the empty Chapel and Gavinrad gestured reverently as though silently beseeching the Light for patience. After a moment, he turned and glowered at the two children from under greying auburn brows.___

_"You." he pointed at Joscelin with a mail-clad finger "For one born of nobility, you have much to learn of what it means to be 'noble'. Your father and your family would be ashamed of you, boy. " The words made Harkness flinch and the boy's jaw tightened. "Your father is a good man - kind and generous to those who have not been as privileged as himself. It would seem the trait is not passed on through the bloodline."___

_"And you," the shiny, metal finger pointed at Taliah now "have all the social graces of a gutter rat, with a mouth to match. Your actions shame you, and shame -me- as well." Gavinrad might as well have slapped her in the face. It would have been less painful. "You will fight with honour or not at all, girl. Next time some useless upstart lordling spouts off on a subject he is woefully ignorant of, you'll issue a proper challenge before you beat them senseless." _

___"As penance for your odious behaviour Squire Harkness, you will aid Taliah with her swordsmanship. She, in turn, will help you with your horsemanship, as you sit a destrier like a sack of dung." The paladin's steely eyes turned to the girl "And as for you…" his voice dipped into an even lower timber than usual "You will spend a week afterwards training with Sister Abbendis and learn what it means to comport yourself like a Lady." She knew better than to protest, though she would have rather cleaned the stables with her tongue for a month than spend even a few minutes with Brigitte Abbendis. Harkness made no sound, only stood at rigid attention and stared at the back of the Chapel beyond Gavinrad's shoulder. The paladin's harsh words had obviously stung the young man. Gavinrad looked down at Taliah's sword, the normally glowing gold runes subdued while in his possession. He thrust the beautiful weapon hilt first at his squire and she hastily sheathed it at her hip. The runes flared back to life as they disappeared into the battered leather scabbard. "Get out of my site." Both squires turned on their heels and marched hastily from the Chapel. Harkness opened the door and Taliah slipped by him.___

_"Dawnstar." Harkness's voice was thick through his broken nose and for a moment, Taliah considered ignoring him and stalking off to her room deep within the barracks of Tyr's Hand. Instead she stopped and faced the lordling that had long tormented her and half expected him to start insulting her again. Instead, he gave her a military bow and dipped his head.___

_"I apologize for my behaviour, Taliah." She desperately sought to find some sarcasm or condescension in his words, but all they held was sincerity. "I've been cruel to you, when I should have been helping you. I can only hope you can forgive me." ___

_Taliah looked the boy up and down as though waiting for some trap to be sprung. When none came, her stance softened, if only a little. "Sorry 'bout the nose." She gestured offhandedly to Joscelin's swollen face. His eyes were already starting to blacken and his grey tunic sported a bib of drying crimson.___

_The boy shrugged and gave a self-deprecating chuckle. "I deserved it. It -was- a decent punch though." he held out his hand "I'll see you before breakfast then?"___

_"Not in the lists." the smile that had barely tugged at her lips disappeared just as suddenly "I'm tired of being watched and mocked."___

_Joscelin offered her his hand, and after a moment, she took it in a firm grip that was nearly as calloused as his own "Don't worry about them, Taliah. I doubt very much you'll hear anyone mock you again. I won't let them."_

Only semi lucid, Taliah felt the warmth of life next to her and a brief moment of elation made her eyes open, until she remembered that she was leaned up against Valiant. _Joscelin…_ He had been her first real friend. They had survived Arthas's assault on Anderhal; four years later they had escaped the thing that was masquerading as Saidan Dathrohan. They had pledged their lives and love to each other in a decrepit barn while on the run from the Scarlet Crusade and had spilled blood together in battle when they were discovered. It had been Fordring who had offered them succour when they had been near starving and hounded by Dathrohan's agents. And now, ten years after he had first offered his hand in friendship, he was gone. Taliah closed her eyes against the grief that threatened to consume her and willed herself into the blackness of sleep again.

Dawn broke in a blood-red sky and Taliah watched as the surviving deahtknights mustered out with quiet military precision, their mounts eerily silent. No heads tossed, not tails switched, no equine calls; only Necrucian stayed behind, accepting a heavy canvas satchel. "Those are to be given unto the King of Stormwind. No one else. Commit their contents to memory." Necrucian saluted without word and Darion Mograine turned his mount, disappearing into the column of dead men riding north. Taliah ignored them both, busying herself with cleaning the mud from her destrier and tacking him up. Every movement made her battered body howl in silent pain that she refused to give voice to. Most of Valiant's barding had been so damaged as to be beyond repair. Only the leather and plate chest guard remained, scratched and plain as it was. Faded campaign ribbons sewn into the leather were stained with blood and ichor.

The last of the deathknight column was disappearing through the trees when Tirion Fordring and his steed Mirador slogged through the crusting mud. It was the tail end of autumn, and the air was growing colder while frost left the ground sparkling in the weak sunlight. Valiant nickered to the other destrier who answered in kind and Necrucian found it ironic that the horses were more civil to each other than their riders.

Tirion Fordring looked tired and worn, darkness circling his grave eyes while his mouth was set in a grim line. Taliah spared him a glance over her shoulder as she tossed Valiant's saddle upon his back and fitted it over the stallion's withers. "I only wish that I could offer words of comfort to lessen the pain of your loss, Taliah. I loved Joscelin like a son, and my heart is broken for you." Taliah pulled the girth tight, refusing to look at the paladin but he forged on. "Necrucian carries important reports and missives to Stormwind. If we are to take this fight to Arthas in Northrend, those dispatches must reach their destination with all due haste. He will find no sanctuary between here and King Varian's court unless you accompany him – it is much to ask, considering what has happened, but unless we can rouse Stormwind and the Alliance to war, what happened here will be but the first of the Lich King's assaults. The lives of every man, woman and child in the Eastern Kingdoms may very well depend on you escorting him safely to Stormwind. If there was anyone else able to escort him, know that I would not now ask you."

Necrucian swung into the saddle and Acharon tossed his heavy, armoured head. Tirion may have been a paladin, and he was also a shrewd man. Asking the obstinate young woman to do something for him more than likely would have been met with a flat, and probably profanity laden refusal. Appealing to her sense of honour and duty to protect the innocent backed Taliah into a corner. Honour demanded that she do as he asked. From the look on her pale face, Dawnstar knew it as well and hated them both for it. Putting her foot into the stirrup, she pulled herself stiffly into the saddle. Valiant began to walk off as Taliah pulled her shoulder-length curls back and secured them at the base of her neck with a leather strip. The reins sat loose on the pommel of the saddle as Valiant picked his own way through the mud in a westerly direction.

"Are you waiting for a Light-damned invitation Scourge, or will I have to drag your dead ass all the way to Stormwind?" Taliah still refused to look at him when she spoke and her tone held nothing but barely concealed loathing. "Fall behind and you get left behind." Necrucian smirked coldly and slung the canvas bag across his shoulder so as not to interfere with his ability to draw the smoking black sword lashed to his back. Touching his spurs to Acharon's sides, the deathknight followed Valiant's muddy footprints and Fordring watched for a long time in silence, until the pair dwindled in the distance.


	3. Chapter 3

Three.

The heavens had opened up just after midday and the cold rain pounded them mercilessly. Immune to the wet and cold, Necrucian let Acharon pick his way through the fetlock deep mud and the destrier kept just out of kicking range. Valiant seemed to be in a fouler mood than usual and occasionally looked back at them with pinned ears. Taliah hunched in the saddle, her hooded cloak drawn tightly about her to ward off the weather.

The cold made her just-mended hand and ribs ache fiercely while the freshly healed flesh of her myriad other wounds itched and stung. She was beginning to regret her harsh words to Fordring, considering all the aging paladin had done for her and Joscelin in the past. She owed him much and instead had done the verbal equivalent of spitting in the man's face. Beneath the hood of her cloak, the young paladin felt her cheek redden in shame.

The only sound in the staccato of the downpour was the slogging of the horses. Valiant's head was low and turned slightly, the great stallion snorting the rain from his nostrils with irritation. They were a four-day ride from the bridge that separated what had once been Eastern and Western Lordaeron, and Southshore was farther still. If the weather didn't grow any worse and nothing unforeseen happened, they would reach Southshore in a fortnight. Taliah did not hold out a lot of hope that the 'unforeseen' would not happen. If they were truly fortunate, they would arrive in Stormwind before the brutal storms of early winter closed in, but again, she did not hold out much hope. And that was only if they could find a ship that would be willing to take a deathknight aboard.

The day wore on, as did the inclement weather and Taliah was soaked to the skin. In her exhaustion, she drifted off and leaned precariously in the saddle when she almost fell asleep. Valiant tried to compensate for his rider but stumbled in the mire and nearly went down on his face. The paladin jerked in the saddle and centered herself, pulling in the destrier's reins to help him regain his balance. Behind her, she could hear the deathknight give an irritated grunt.

"We'll take shelter there for the night." He pointed at the remains of a small stead a few leagues up the road, tucked into a thicket of overgrown and decaying hedges. "The roof looks intact." Taliah did not reply, her heart still hammering from the near spill and she mentally berated herself for her lack of discipline. Reaching down, she patted Valiant's thick, crested neck in apology. The rain had made the destrier's normally merry dappled coat a cheerless, uniform grey and her hand slapped wetly against his hide.

Deciding the miserable beast was probably too busy trying to negotiate the rutted, sloppy road to kick at him, Necrucian slid Acharon up beside the paladin. The dripping hood of the cowl concealed the young woman's face, but he didn't need to see her steaming breath to know both she and her mount were cold and tired. While he sat straight in the saddle, Necrucian felt more than a little out of sorts as well. Mograine and the other deathknights had been greatly weakened by their sudden release from the Lich King's hold, the dark power that had been theirs to draw upon no longer coming to their call as easily as it once had. Mograine hoped that wresting Acherus, the seat of their power, from the Scourge would rectify the problem. If nothing else, the freed deathknights, now calling themselves the Knights of the Ebon Blade, would exact some retribution and he wished he'd been able to go with them. Necrucian was in favour of doing anything that put a thumb in the Lich King's eye.

The small stead was mostly intact save for a few broken windows on the two-story home and a few loose shingles on the barn. Taliah dismounted clumsily, stiff with cold and pain, and shrugged the cloak back from her arms to draw her sword.

"Go into the house and start a fire. I'll check the barn." Necrucian stepped from the saddle, his heavy boots sinking ankle deep into the muck. Glowing eyes swept over the derelict structure as his hand closed over the hilt of the greatsword that rested upon his back. The paladin ignored him.

The golden runes etched into the blade's wide fuller pulsated slowly, providing just enough illumination to see into the darkness as she opened the door. It swung with a hideous squeal of rusted hinges, a toothless dark maw opening into a black gullet that smelled of stale hay and old cow dung. "Or just completely ignore my attempts at being gallant." he growled.

The barn was empty, save for overturned buckets and open stall doors. Old dried dung littered the floor and a sack of putrid grain, bearing the seal of Anderhal, slumped in the corner. Taliah had hoped the occupants of the stead had perhaps managed to flee before things had gone to hell, but the half-empty sack of tainted grain confirmed her worst fear. Behind her, Necrucian poked at a mound of mouldy hay with his greatsword and he was almost disappointed when nothing jumped out and tried to peel his face off.

Taliah scrambled up the ladder to the loft, awkward in her armour, and found it lifeless and empty but for some bound rounds of hay. There were two that looked less musty than the others and she threw them down, nearly hitting the deathknight in the face as he looked up at her from the floor. It had been inadvertent, but the irritated look on the dead man's face cheered her somewhat.

The paladin's fingers were numb with cold by the time Valiant had been untacked and left in a stall to wallow in hock-deep hay. Acharon had been more than happy to help himself to the sack of tainted grain; it wasn't as though it would kill him. The small two-story home to the left of the barn would have been cozy and quaint if not for the overturned furniture and the stains upon the wooden floor. As though someone had slaughtered a pig near the hearth and dragged it to the door, the brown, long dried blood had soaked into the wood, creating a swath nearly as wide and the deathknight's broad shoulders. Whispering a prayer for the home's former occupants, she moved deeper into the structure as Necrucian shouldered through the door. At six and a half feet tall, Necrucian had to bow his head slightly to avoid striking his brow on the top of the doorframe.

The hearth was cold and empty though a little wood and kindling occupied the floor next to it. Her shaking, pale hands were ill equipped to try and tent the kindling over a twist of mouldy hay but the paladin persevered, managing to get it lit with flint struck off her sword. The hay wisped smoke and she blew gently on the embers, coaxing a flame to life. Shrugging out of her plate and mail to the wet woollens beneath, Taliah fed the fire patiently until the hearth roared and the heat drove her back a few steps. The heavy tread of Necrucian's boots descending the stairs to the second floor and she glanced over her shoulder.

"Here." The Deathknight offered her a blanket and an assortment of roughspun woollens. Taliah was loathed to take Necrucian's offerings, but dying of hypothermia was hardly going to further their mission. Too cold and tired to care about propriety, she simply turned her back to the former Scourge knight and skinned out of her sodden clothing.

Necrucian's once chestnut brows, now bleached and pale, rose as the extent of the paladin's campaign badges were revealed in the orange glow of the fire. Thin scars, some white with age, some pink and fresh, marked her body where blades had scored her, and what looked like jagged claw marks mapped her from right shoulder to left hip.

The paladin shrugged into the scratchy wool shirt and had to choke back a sigh or relief. It felt good to be warm and have something dry against her skin again. The breeches Necrucian had found were much too large, forcing her to roll up the cuffs and fasten them about her middle with a hank of hempen rope she'd found on the mantle of the hearth. When she had finally stopped shivering, the paladin set about hanging her clothing and armour from every available hook, crook and nook so it would dry. Untying the leather strip from her sodden black hair, she shook her head and ran her fingers through their tangled length, wincing when knots caught in her fingertips.

"Thank you." Her words were grudging, but they were the only thing she'd said to him since early that morning. Necrucian merely nodded in acknowledgment and slouched in a chair before the hearth. Taliah curled up on the floor in the blanket by the fire, using half of its width to protect her from the rough wood of the floor and the other half to cover herself from chin to toes. The floor was hard, but at least it was level, and it was much better than sleeping in the mud. Exhausted and stiff, Taliah's eyelids drooped.

"Did you know what you were doing, when you killed him?" the paladin's voice was soft and bitter, her grief barely held in check. Necrucian sat in silence for a long moment as he looked into the fire, knowing perfectly well to whom she was referring. 

"It was a waking nightmare." The deathknight's deep voice, hollow and ethereal, was the only sound in the room besides the cracking of the fire and the drumming of the rain. "The torment drives you on and only obedience to the Lich King's will slake the hunger. The only thing that sates the pain is to kill, and the respite is brief. The man I once was, was there - a tiny, weakened presence in the back of my mind, shuddering and weeping in horror at what I was made to do." The deathknight took a deep breath. It was a purely autonomic gesture, wholly unnecessary, but it made him feel a little more human. "If you're asking if I felt satisfaction in his death… yes, I did. It wasn't until I was free of the Lich King's hold that I could feel anything again but sadistic enjoyment. Seeing you there, kneeling in the mud, holding him as he slipped away…" his gauntlets creaked in protest as his hands closed into fists "Every life I took… every torment I inflicted… I can never atone for what I have done. All that is left to me is this mission, and when it is over, I will go to Northrend, alone if necessary, and I will bury the blade Arthas gave me into his black heart. Or I will die trying." He looked down at the paladin and Taliah's pale face was almost peaceful, her grey eyes closed. "I could no more stay my hand than you could stop an tempest with mere words. I am sorry for the pain I have caused you, paladin. I will not ask your forgiveness – I have done the unforgiveable and I will spend the rest of my days tormented by the faces of those I have slaughtered." A long silence stretched between the two warriors and Necrucian glanced down at Taliah, whose soft breathing could barely be heard over the fire and the rain, but he knew she was asleep.


	4. Chapter 4

Four.

"_Aaros, please.. don't do this!" The woman begged, her hands clutching the faded, blood spattered surcoat he wore over black plate. All around them, chaos reigned as the Scourge set upon the people who only moments before, had been welcoming home what they thought had been Prince Arthas' force from Northrend. They had been cloaked so as not to spook the populace, but at the Prince's silent command, his undead army had drawn steel and waded into the crowd. All around him, the screams of the dying rang louder than the bells that had heralded their return._

_Arthas waded through the bloody anarchy, Frostmourn smoking and hungry in his hand, and looked down at the terrified woman pleading with the deathknight as the child she clutched to her breast wailed. "Your wife came to welcome you home. How touching..." Necrucian's gauntlet was tangled in her golden tresses and pulling her head back at a painful angle to expose her throat. She wore the simple cobalt gown he had always loved – the one that brought out the blue in her eyes. A sick smirk tugged at the corrupted Prince's lips "Slay her, Necrucian. Slay her in the name of your King."_

_His wife had been with child when he'd left with Prince Arthas for Northrend, the same babe she now tried to protect. The last shreds of his humanity, buried somewhere in the recesses of his enslaved mind cried out in horror__**. **_

_At the words of his master, the man once called Aaros Marston tore the child, his child, from his screaming wife's arms and discarded the wailing infant like so much refuse. The babe struck the cobbles with a sickening impact of flesh and soft bones and its cries ended abruptly. Necrucian didn't bother to use his sword, merely wrapping his free hand about the sobbing woman's throat. It closed like a vice and he looked dispassionately down into her tearful blue eyes as he crushed the life from her. Sielle battered at his wrist and the mailed fist about her throat in desperation that grew ever weaker. Her eyes bulged as she fought for breath, but the hand about her graceful neck only tightened._

_Necrucian could feel the cartilage of her windpipe crack and felt her spine splinter in his grip. The woman's struggles ceased. It felt –good-, and what was left of his humanity howled in anguish. With a sadistic sneer, the man who was once Aaros Marston tossed the corpse of his wife aside. Aaros Marston, now known simply as Necrucian, only months before a soldier in service to Lordaeron, waded into what was left of the crowd. The smoking blade in his hand cut a swath of destruction through the people he had once sworn to protect._

The deathknight's eerie, glowing eyes opened slowly, the screams of his memories filling his mind with a cacophony of anguish. The fire had burned down to coals and the paladin asleep on the floor was curled into a ball, only the top of her black curls visible. Fordring had named her Dawnstar, and the name rang somehow familiar with the deathknight, but the memory escaped him for the moment. The paladin on the floor groaned and shivered in her sleep, and despite the sickly yellow light of dawn creeping across the floor, Necrucian decided to let her rest a little longer. Necrucian rose, the tread of his boots seemingly loud in the open main floor of the house, but Taliah did not stir. Feeding arm-sized logs into the fire, he coaxed it back to life.

Acharon met him at the door as the former Scourge soldier stepped into the barn. The beast butted its armoured head into the deathknight's chest and gave an otherworldly nicker of greeting. Necrucian's pale lips pulled back in a smile "So, I'm not the only one who has been freed." The destrier had always merely been an untiring vehicle, a weapon platform that carried him to battle and nothing more. "Perhaps there is hope for us, then."

Valiant poked his head over the stall, hay protruding from his mouth and clinging to his forelock as though he'd been rolling in the bounty Taliah had left him. With a grunt, the stallion lurched to his feet and shook himself like an enormous dog before stretching. The arrogant destrier glared at the deathknight from over the stall door before turning his hindquarters towards him in an equine insult. Necrucian ignored him, glancing over his shoulder as Taliah's form slipped through the door. The paladin said nothing to the deathknight and busied herself picking hay out of the horse's silky forelock. Valiant closed his eyes and sighed as the young woman stroked her fingers down the bridge of his convex profile.

Taliah checked the horse over with meticulous care, running hands down his clean, powerful legs and checking the rough-shod black hooves for injuries. The stallion seemed to enjoy the attention, as though her obvious adoration and affection were his by right. Valiant's richly dappled coat, sunlight through storm clouds, rippled over a compact body both agile and powerful. He held himself like a king among his kind and it was obvious the stallion would brook not insult to his person. The golden spurs on Taliah's boots, unlike Necrucian's own, were blunted and only long enough to help the destrier feel them through his barding – a device of communication, not subjugation. Valiant chose to obey out of love, unlike Acharon who obeyed because he'd never had a will of his own.

"He's magnificent." Necrucian allowed as he tightened Acharon's girth. The dead destrier stood still as stone, his previous flash of personality once again gone.

"Don't say that too loudly, his ego is big enough." she muttered in reply. Valiant stuffed his face into the worn bridle when it was offered and champed quietly at the bit while his paladin shifted his saddle into place. Taliah fitted the battered chest protector and stuffed a hard ration biscuit into her mouth as she led the stallion out the door. The destrier seemed more interested in what his girl was eating and ignored the deathknight and his steed.

The day was clear, though the fetid haze that permeated the Plaguelands filtered the sunlight and made it a sickly parody of a pleasant autumn afternoon and the two rode in silence. As they approached the ruined town of Corin's Crossing, the paladin seemed on edge. Even the horses were tense as they neared the ruined tow. Taliah could feel the evil seeping from the very ground and her hand rested upon the hilt of Peacemaker. Her battered shield had been discarded at the armourer's at Light's Hope and the paladin felt somewhat naked without it. Necrucian could feel it too, a cloying sense of wrongness as the two made their way down the main street and deeper into town. The road was rutted and muddy, the buildings rotting, the broken windows and shattered doors giving them the appearance of hungry, living things with dark eyes and splinter-lined maws. The sound of Peacemaker sliding from its scabbard seemed much too loud in the still, foul air and Valiant reared as the unnatural stillness around them was shattered by the shrieks of the undead.

They burst from the houses and broken shops, howling in mindless rage and hunger. Some were missing limbs, others parts of their face. Some shambled forward, their rotting innards dragging behind them. The sudden stench was nearly overwhelming for the paladin who felt as though the biscuit she'd had to break her fast was going to see the light of day again. Necrucian was inured to the stench of the dead, but he could smell the paladin's fear though only fury showed on her face. She waded into them with a battle cry that belied her five and a half foot frame and lay about her with Peacemaker. Valiant bellowed as though a demon and plunged into the midst of the undead and Acharon gave an unearthly bugle as Necrucian drew steel.

The green and black ichor of putrefaction boiled off the greatsword and Acharon kept his head low as the deathknight hacked and slashed at the reanimated dead. He saw Artha's face on every one of them and the near mindless hatred clouded his perception. Necrucian howled his rage like a great wounded beast, his steed seeming to come to life beneath him and made a sound like metal being torn asunder. A ghoul sporting the faded colours and armour of what had been the local militia stabbed at him with a rusty pike and the deathknight caught the former soldier a blow from shoulder to hip. The rotting body fell away in two pieces and twitched before laying still. A woman's voice called his name, and he looked up in time to see a huge, pallid shape lumbering towards him.


	5. Chapter 5

Five.

A warning was all she could spare the deathknight. Valiant squealed and spun hard on his haunches as Taliah called upon the Light. White flame ignited along Peacemaker's blade like a candle touched to fine brandy while the undead pressed in around them. What had once been men, women and children clawed and howled, their flesh falling away like jelly at every stroke of her consecrated blade. She called once again and the Light answered. Taliah held Peacemaker aloft and the fire along the hand-and-a half ran down her arm before stabbing out like a nova. The undead shrieked, felled by the holy wrath of the Light, becoming a revolting smoking and dissolving mass at the destrier's feet.

The paladin spun her mount as the abomination bore down upon Necrucian. Acharon jigged hard to the left as the fleshy mountain's club, a tree trunk replete with broken branches at one end and desiccated roots at the other, crashed into the ground. The horror swept the club after the deathknight and his mount, but while the destrier didn't have much of a personality, he was fleet and agile. Divots of earth flew from his sharp hooves as Necrucian guided the beast behind the maggot-white pile of stitched body parts, hacking and slashing with his greatsword. The thing bellowed in anger and the third arm attached to the thing's left shoulder swatted at the deathknight as though warding away an insect before falling free of the body.

Taliah's destrier mowed down everything in its path, tripping and sliding on rotting flesh and mud as the paladin tried to keep her seat. The undead were trying to pull her down with sheer numbers and something caught her by the wrist as she slashed at a ghoul trying to gnaw her lower leg through her plate greaves. With a yank, the paladin came out of the saddle, bouncing off Valiant's hindquarters as she sailed backwards through the air. The impact knocked the air from her lungs and stars exploded before her eyes as her bare head struck the ground. Shrieking, decayed faces swam into view as the paladin tried to focus. Bony fingers clawed at her and yellowed, broken teeth gnawed at her armour. "Get the hell off me, you wretches!" Taliah cried, trying to protect her filthy, pale face with her arms. In a moment of panic she began to kick and punch furiously, but undead were undeterred and Taliah realized she had but moments to live. _Your servant calls! Shield me from this evil!_

The mountain of pasty flesh seemed only to happy to plod after the deathknight who was trying to put some distance between himself and the uprooted tree it wielded. He suddenly reined in hard, sitting Acharon deep on his hindquarters and causing the undead destrier to slide three times his own length. Turning his mount with a brutal jerk of the reins and with a battle cry so terrible is seemed to freeze the very air around him Necrucian charged the hulking abomination. The beastly thing gave a wet, gurgling roar and raised its improvised club to swing as the deathknight came at it head-on. The mindless thing gronked and gargled a laugh, which only seemed to enrage the black armoured man. Necrucian's eyes glowed wrathfully as his face twisted into a frightening snarl. The greatsword he held, cocked back and ready to swing, seemed to pulsate with dark power and the glacier blue runes etched into the fullers flared bright. With a crash the two connected like a pair of steam tanks.

Necrucian gave a mighty swing and the greatsword crackled with dark energy. It sheared through the tree and the hands that held it at the wrists. Putrid ichor sprayed from the stumps, creating a greasy sheen on the deathknight's armour. Bellowing like a wounded kodo, the abomination swatted its stumped arms at his smaller opponent, knocking the dead man clean out of the saddle. The deathknight flew back like a ragdoll, rolling and tumbling in the mud before he came to a stop on his back and staring up at the sky. His sword-hand flexed and Necrucian was dismayed when the hilt of his massive blade was absent. The abomination came at him, stumped arms flailing and roaring inarticulate anger as green-black ichor continued to spray. Staggering to his feet, the Deathknight focused on his rage. The limitless hatred he had for his former master and the Lich King's wretched creations came easy and the deathknight fed it. All the indignities he had suffered. All the innocent lives he had taken. All the atrocities he had been forced to commit. The power he had formerly possessed flared to life once more. With a look of utter contempt, Necrucian reached out his hand and the charging abomination staggered to a halt. Confusion twisted the hideous white, fleshy face and it stared dumbly at the deathknight who then closed his fist.

The protective shield about her dissipated with a shimmer of golden Light and the paladin bent, hands on her knees, panting like an overworked beast of burden. The former citizens of Corin's Crossing lay scattered in the mud, now truly dead. "May the Light have mercy upon you. Be at rest." Taliah managed between breaths. Doggedly she straightened and whistled for Valiant, her grey gaze sweeping the square for Necrucian. His battle had carried him down the street, and she looked up in time to see him charge the mountain of stitched parts and go sailing in one direction while his huge sword went in the other.

"Oh fuck me…" she swore. Valiant's hoofbeats slapped in the mud and she called on the Light to fortify her once more, swinging into the saddle as the power answered her prayer. Her aches and pains dulled and her fatigue was erased, and while the effect would be temporary, the paladin felt renewed. With a whistle she sent Valiant off at a gallop, her sword arm up and ready as they closed on the unhorsed deathknight and thing that bore down on him. Taliah saw Necrucian get to his feet and she felt the air grow cold, so cold it hurt to breath. When the deathknight thrust out his hand, the paladin wondered if he'd gone quite mad as she doubted the undead mountain would be swayed by the gesture. And then the man's big mailed fist closed.

The sudden disgusting explosion caused Valiant to sit on his haunches in surprise, his forelegs paddling awkwardly backwards as the chucks of rotting meat and a fountain of reeking fluids cascaded over them in a putrid wave of filth. Instead of stopping or reversing his momentum, the backpedalling made horse and rider spin completely around twice as they slid through the mud, blood and Light only knows what else. Necrucian watched the pair spin by and heard the paladin cursing in the most colourful and eloquent words he'd heard in a while. When the sliding and spinning had ceased, Taliah looked more than a little green and her gore-spattered destrier stood splay-legged. Slowly, the paladin turned, and while her back was fine, the front portion of both her and her horse were awash in a chunky sea of abomination detritus. Reaching up, she wiped her hand over her filth-spattered face and glared daggers at the deathknight.


	6. Chapter 6

Six.

An exhausted silence stretched between the paladin and the deathknight, continuing long after their flight from Corin's Crossing. Only the wind and the sound of the horses disturbed the terrible stillness of the Plaguelands. Necrucian brooded in silence, his thoughts turned inward. Obviously the power he once wielded as a minion of the Lich King was available to him, but at what price? Did he have to revert into the thing he despised in order to call upon it? It was not a comforting prospect. So consumed was he by these thoughts, it took him a moment to realize something was disturbing the death-enforced quiet of the Plaguelands.

It was laughter_._ And it was coming from Taliah.

Necrucian's glowing eyes blinked, as though what he was hearing and its source were desperately trying to correlate in his mind. Slowly, the deathknight turned in the saddle to face the young woman, a faded brown brow rising in question. Taliah's laughter stopped for a moment and she looked back at deathknight with a deadpan expression. For a moment, the two warriors just looked at each other, and then Taliah bent her wrists inwards as though her hands had been lopped off. Her arms flailed and she gronked and gabbled like a donkey with a head cold in a fairly accurate imitation of the abomination's vocalizations.

Necrucian wondered if perhaps all of the horror she had witnessed in the last few days had finally cause the paladin to go mad. Chunks of abomination still decorated her armour and her black curls were lank and nauseating. Despite it all, the paladin doubled over in the saddle and howled with laughter.

She could hardly breathe and wiped tears of mirth from her eyes. "You.. you should have seen your face when you sat up… and realized your sword was gone. Your eyes were big as a ship's signal lights." She managed between guffaws. 

"Aye, but I'd hazard my expression wasn't nearly as amusing as watching you and that miserable bastard you're sitting on spin like a top on a greased table." The deathknight smirked and looked at the woman sidelong, his index finger held up and rotating as though in demonstration. "Although the look on your face in the aftermath of the a-bomb-ination's end was a fairly close second."

The pun was not lost on the paladin who snorted derisively before looking down at herself with a sigh of disgust "Despite the health risks, I'd love to bathe in a tub of pure, boiling lye right about now." She sniffed "By the Light… I smell like a corpse."

"Don't think I hadn't noticed. I'm undead, not olfactory-impaired." It struck the deathknight that this was the first real conversation the two had shared that hadn't involve curses or threats. Taliah seemed to realize it as well and lapsed back into silence, her sudden and surprise outburst of dark humour over as quickly as it had began.

"Doubtful we'll find shelter tonight." The deathknight looked up, trying to gage the time by the position of the sun. The day was growing late. "Or water for that matter. We're still a day's ride from the Thondroril and the forage will be poor until we get to Hillsbrad."

Taliah put a hand to her destrier's neck. "It won't be the first time one of us has gone hungry. Will it, old man?" The stallion's hide was crusty with sweat and gore and from the way it twitched it must have itched fiercely. "Once we get to the river, we can follow the shore of Darrowmere Lake and ford east of the bridge to Anderhal. We'll avoid the town entirely."

"You're acquainted with the area then?" Necrucian found this more interesting than Taliah was comfortable with. She could still sometimes smell the burning piles of what had once been the people of Anderhal at night in her sleep.

"You could say that." Her tone made it obvious the conversation on the subject was over. The paladin looked down as Valiant stopped abruptly and stuffed his nose into a fetlock deep puddle. The stallion drank greedily, his throat moving visibly as he swallowed. Acharon reached down to sniff at the rapidly shrinking puddle and Valiant took the opportunity to snake his head and snort, snapping his big teeth at the deathcharger. Taliah gave the reins a sharp jerk in admonishment. "Quit being a miserable git and just drink. Save it for the Scourge." Tired and testy, she wasn't in the mood for mischief.

Necrucian spared another look at the sky that while hazy was finally clear. "We've perhaps three hours worth of light left." The dead did not grow tired, but the living were not so fortunate. Taliah looked to be in a perpetual state of exhaustion since they had left Light's Hope. "You look tired."

"My physical state is none of your concern." She replied snappishly and Necrucian was beginning to wonder if he could say anything that wouldn't either anger the woman or cause her to shut down. "The only reason I'm here to make sure you don't get your pale arse lynched on the way to Stormwind. Once you've delivered that Light-damned satchel of love letters to the King, I never want to set eyes on you again." The deathknight had thought her attitude towards him had shifted for the better after her laughing fit. Apparently he'd been mistaken.

"I can only apologize so many times for what I have done, Taliah." The woman was getting on his last nerve. "If I could bring him back, do you not think I would? You have suffer terribly, I have seen it, but you are not the only one who has endured the waking nightmare that came from Northrend." He snapped back "You do not have a monopoly on suffering, cypher."

Taliah sat back as though she'd been slapped "..What did you call me?" Necrucian hadn't considered that the paladin might be familiar with the old, obscure Arathi children's story involving a pigheaded dog named Cypher that would not relinquish an ox bone too big for her to move. Her short-sightedness cause her own downfall, starving to death because she would not leave the bare bone she had claimed. Being called a 'cypher' was akin to being called an unreasonable bitch.

"You worry your grief and rage like a dog with a bone." The deathknight spat "No amount of grieving will bring him back, nor will hating me for something I could not control. Continue on this path that you've started down and you'll only become everything you've fought against." He had barely finished the last word when Valian sidepassed hard into Acharon and Taliah twisted in the saddle. The paladin's eyes burned white with heatless flame that licked from the sockets, making them glow like twin stars.

Necrucian hadn't expected a reaction quite as violent as he received and the deathknight didn't have time to duck. The paladin's fist took him in the jaw with more power than the tired woman should have been able to muster. Necrucian's head snapped back and the ground rushed up to meet him as he fell from Acharon's back into what was left of the puddle. Valiant stood over him with red-rimmed eyes, ears pinned, and cleared his nostrils into the deathknight's face with a loud snort. Taliah looked down at him from the saddle. "My grief and anger are all that sustains me." she growled and for someone who was not physically imposing, Taliah could be positively menacing. The paladin pointed down at the deathknight "And my duty is all that keeps me from putting Peacemaker through your guts. Remember that, deathknight."

Necrucian rubbed his jaw and got to his feet "Would that make you feel better?" he asked, actually curious. His otherworldly voice was calm and it only seemed to anger the paladin further. "Would killing me make your pain go away?" The deathknight stood his ground as Peacemaker slid from its scabbard, igniting as it cleared leather. Valiant reared and trumpeted as Taliah held the blade aloft. White fire slithered over horse and rider until they shone like a beacon.

"Why don't we find out?" her voice boomed. Valiant came back to earth nose-to-nose with the deathknight and still the former soldier of Lordaeron did not move.

"How long do you think the relief would last, girl?" Necrucian raised his chin in challenge, but did not reached for the hilt of the greatsword that poked over his left shoulder. "How long can you contain that rage? How long until you forswear your oath and fall from grace?" The fire died from the paladin's eyes and the flames that limned horse and ride dissipated into a golden mist. "How long until you let vengeance instead of honour guide you and you no longer know the difference between good and evil?"

The paladin looked down at the deathknight, her face emotionless and still as stone. As quickly as it had escalated, the confrontation was over. Taliah turned Valiant and walked away in brooding silence. As he swung onto Acharon's back, Necrucian was left to wonder if he'd gotten through to the mercurial woman, or only made her hate him more.


	7. Chapter 7

Seven.

Taliah had not said a word in two days and the deathknight did not know whether to be worried or thankful. By the fifth day of their journey, the two riders crossed the stone bridge that spanned the Thondroril river that split what was now the Western Plaguelands from the Eastern. They turned south and followed the river until four bells after midday before Necrucian merely halted at a stand of yellowed pine and dismounted. Taliah turned in the saddle to look back at him, a thin black brow rising in question. When it was apparent the deathknight was not going to continue, the paladin glanced sidelong at the river.

Necrucian reached up and snapped a sizeable branch from a pine before breaking it into firewood sized pieces, ignoring Taliah until he saw her leap from the saddle and hastily pull her gear from the Valiant. Free of his tack, Valiant wandered a few paces away and throwing himself to the sand, rolled like pig in a wallow. Pieces of Taliah's armour dropped in a trail to the river until she was left only in her plain linen smallclothes before bounding into the water. The paladin waded in chest-deep, shoving her head beneath the surface and scratched vigorously at her scalp to scrape the filth from her hair. Reaching under water, she scooped up handfuls of sand and pebbles, rubbing them into her skin.

The water was a little silty and cold, but she didn't care – it felt so good to be somewhat clean. When she'd finished scrubbing herself pink, she tossed in her clothing. Valiant was next and she scrubbed the destrier stem to stern with handfuls of course sand. The deathknight watched from the campfire; other than the tan on her face, Taliah was pale, as though she lived in her armour and her pallor made the terrible scar across her belly even more shocking. It matched the mark on her back – five diagonal claw-like slashes, the scars still pink though he got the sense that the wound was old. The paladin was aware that the deathknight was watching her, but she didn't seem to care as her hands twisted the raven curls, wringing the water from them.

Taliah busied herself with hanging her clothing from the trees as the sun sank deep in the west. Wrapping herself in Valiant's saddle blanket, the paladin sat on the ground near the warmth of the fire and rummaged through her pack. The hardtack she's been eating since leaving Light's Hope was running out, but it didn't stop her from sharing what she had with her destrier. Valiant ambled over on hearing the oilcloth rustle and poked Taliah in the shoulder with his soft, whiskery muzzle. "Here, you great dirty mooch." she sighed and offered the stallion a tough, salty biscuit that he chewed with relish. Valiant nosed at her tousled hair as though in thanks and then disappeared into the darkness.

"You're not worried he'll wander off?" Necrucian leaned back against the trunk of a dying evergreen.

"Nope." Was all he got in reply. With a shrug, the deathknight removed a bundle from his saddlebags and pulled out a strip of dried meat, sticking it between his teeth and chewing on one end as he went about cleaning his sword. He'd decided to give the blade a name, and 'Redemption' seemed fitting enough.

Food wasn't something he needed anymore, but it made him feel a little more human. Taliah glanced over the fire at him and Necrucian could almost hear her stomach growl. With a flick of his wrist, the deathknight tossed the bundle across the fire and it landed in the paladin's lap. "What is it?" her words were suspicious in tone.

"Salt pork." He replied as he chewed. The paladin's eyes widened and she tossed it back without even opening it as though he'd just offered her a wrapped, severed head. "You have something against pigs?"

Taliah suppressed a shudder. "Only the way they smell when you cook them." She pulled the blanket around herself though the night was unseasonably warm. "I haven't touched pork since the fall of Anderhal."

The deathknight remembered seeing scorched skeletal remains during their assault on the town to reclaim Kel'Thuzad's remains. It was a detail he recalled easily enough, though at the time he could have cared less. "You burned the dead." He replied and ran the sharpening stone along the massive blade's upper edge.

"When we cleared the undead out of the town, we burned the bodies – their dead and ours, just to be safe. The smell…" It had smelled like a pig roast, and the recollections of smoking, cooking human flesh made her swallow against the nausea the memory always caused. "It was terrible." Tired as she was, Taliah didn't realize she was being uncharacteristically chatty. "You're trying to engage me in conversation again. Don't." She growled and pulled the blanket up to her eyes, her demeanour turning prickly once more.

"Taliah… I'm not your enemy. Neither of us has anything left but our duty. You at least still have your honour." The stone grated along the blade in measured, practiced strokes "If we cannot be friends, can we at least be allies?"

"I'm _trying_ not to hate you, deathknight." She replied after a long, heavy pause, though the paladin seemed to have to almost force herself to say the words. "I know that what you've done was not of your own will." Grey met blue across the orange glow of the campfire and Taliah's eyes were intense with a flood of emotion he could not name "But you took Joscelin from me, and I held him as he bled the ground red, helpless to save him. How do I forgive that?" The pain that radiated from the broken-hearted woman made the deathknight look away.

"I don't know if I could in your place, paladin." Necrucian shook his head and let Redemption rest across his knees. "I can only say that I know the pain you suffer." A fine, sweeping brow rose as the paladin was about to refute the man's words but Necrucian cut her off. "My wife was among the throngs that came out to give us a hero's welcome the day Arthas returned to Capital City and slew his own father." It was the deathknight's turn to look blankly into the fire "She had brought our baby with her…she was near term when I left, and bore the child while I was Northrend. I don't even know if it was a boy or a girl." He sheathed Redemption abruptly and placed it against a nearby tree. "I dashed my own child to the street and choked the life from the only woman I had ever loved. And every day I have been freed from the Lich King's control, I can still hear her in my mind, begging me to stop."

Taliah sat in shocked silence and then looked away. The deathknight lapsed into silence as well and stillness descended like a shroud. The paladin closed her eyes. Her emotions were in turmoil; on one hand she wanted to hate the man who sat across the fire, and wondered if killing him really _would_ make her feel better. Conversely, she also felt an upswell of something akin to pity for him as well, for what he'd been forced to do. Forgiveness had never come easy to her when she was wronged, a fault that Gavinrad the Dire had admonished her for more than once. "If you're looking for absolution, I've none to offer." She replied though it wasn't terse, merely a statement of fact. Knowing now what the man had been through, it was getting harder to hate him.


	8. Chapter 8

Eight.

The reception the deathknight received at the Chillwind outpost was about what he'd expected – torches, pitforks and naked steel until Taliah had interceded in her usual, diplomatic manner.

"You keep strange company, Dawnstar." Commander Ashlam Valorfist grated as he picked himself up off the ground. "I had hope that spending time with the Lord Fordring would have given you some manners. Sadly I see you haven't changed." Valorfist had been ready to attack the deathknight, but a well-aimed swing of Valiant's hindquarters had sent the paladin sprawling before his warhammer could be brought to bear.

Taliah pointed down at the man from her perch. "My mission comes from Lord Fordring himself. I need enough supplies to see us to Southshore and less fucking lip from you, Ashlam." It was becoming obvious to the deathknight that the two knew each other and were on somewhat less than friendly terms.

"You'll get your supplies Dawnstar, and you'll be out of my encampment at first light." The man replied stone-faced. "I'll suffer your presence in my camp, but not his." The paladin stabbed a mailed finger at the deathknight who merely looked down at him without expression. The commander turned away, stalking off as the small crowd dispersed.

Necrucian glanced at Taliah questioningly "Is there _anyone_ you get along with?"

"Not really." The woman swung down from Valiant's back "It keeps my Winter's Veil gift list short."

"Taliah!" a woman's excited voice caused the paladin to stiffen in surprise and turn abruptly. Dawnstar blinked at the woman and then rushed forward to meet her.

"Jessa!" Taliah seemed genuinely happy for the first time since Necrucian had met her. The older woman, garbed in the white robes of a High Priestess, seemed to wear serenity like a cloak and the paladin fidgeted with uncertainty. Still smelling less than clean, Taliah hesitate as the other woman moved to embrace her. The cleric did not seem to care and hugged the paladin fiercely. The priestess looked over the paladin's shoulder as if expecting to see someone else riding up the road towards them.

"Were is Joscelin?" Jessa McDonnell held the younger woman at arm's length and one glance into Taliah's eyes told her all she needed to know. The warm expression upon her pretty face dissolved into dismay and sadness "Ah, by the Light, no." The High Priestess kissed Taliah on the cheek and embracing her once more "I'm so sorry, Taliah."

"He fell in battle at Light's Hope, defiant and with a sword in his hand." The paladin replied bravely. Jessa gave her a look of profound sympathy, placing a gentle hand on the woman's sunburned cheek. Necrucian sat atop his destrier in silence and the priestess looked up at him. Taliah followed the priestess's glance though said nothing. High Priestess McDonnell smiled and took Taliah gently by the arm.

"My tent is yours. Come Taliah, lets us speak in a more private place." Jessa steered the paladin away, and the deathknight wasn't sure if he was supposed to follow. Figuring discretion was the better part of valour, he dismounted and walked the perimeter of the camp.

Chillwind had gone from a large encampment early in the war to just the few tents and a burned out building. Of the few dozen people that occupied the place, only a handful were not soldiers or support staff and none of them seemed predisposed to giving him the time of day. The glares and angry whispers followed him as he led Acharon through the camp. Necrucian did not blame them; for all he knew, he had killed someone close to them, and if he hadn't the Scourge probably had. As difficult as Taliah had been to live with, he was suddenly glad for her company. The deathknight reflected that if the reception at Chillwind had been less than warm, he could probably expect worse in Stormwind. Escort or no, he would indeed be fortunate to get in the front gates, let alone stand in the royal presence. The deathknight could feel the icy glares at his back and led his deathcharger across the road, growing tired of the hatred and fear that fouled the air.

"He was a good, noble man and those who knew him will always remember his kindness and bravery. I'm sorry for your loss, Taliah." Jessa sat, her hands folded in her lap, upon a canvas and wood-frame campaign chair. Taliah reluctantly slumped in the one opposite her. Cups of steaming tea were poured and the High Priestess offered her a cold capon left over from lunch. The paladin had just finished describing the battle of Light's Hope, the emancipation of the deathknights and Joscelin's death. The priestess had sat in silence while Taliah retold the events as though she were giving a briefing and could tell the paladin was not being entirely forthcoming.

"Fordring had him buried in consecrated ground. I was injured and unable to be there when they committed his remains to the earth." Taliah's face revealed little but inside she still felt like she was dying. "I tried to stay by his side when the slaughter started, but the Scourge came in like a tide of death and we were separated. By the time the Light lead me to him, I was too late." Her jaw set against the pain "At least he did not die alone."

"And what of this deathknight that rides with you?" Jessa sipped her tea, watching as Taliah stared into her teacup. She could feel the resentment and conflict that the dark knight evoked in the woman. "Your resentment of him goes deeper than the fact he was once Scourge."

"It was Necrucian's blade that killed Harkness." Taliah slumped further in the chair as she fussed with the teacup. "Inside, I know it was not his fault – he had no choice in what he was forced to become and had no way to resist what which he was forced to do…" Taliah told her of the death of the man's wife and child at his own hands and the priestess paled. "Knowing what he has suffered, I cannot hate him, but nor can I forgive him." 

"That poor soul." If there was one person in the Eastern Kingdoms who could feel compassion for a man who had once slaughtered the innocent, it was Jessa. Tears spiked the older woman's dark blonde lashes "The torment he must be suffering… that you must both be suffering. It was cruel of Tirion to ask this of you, but I believe the Light had a hand in this as well."

"There wasn't much choice at the time. I was the only one left who could ride, let alone get him into Stormwind. Tirion made a command decision, and as much as I hated him at the time for it, it was the correct choice." Those were her words, but on some level she was still unreasonably angry with Fordring. The paladin finally took a sip of tea. It smelled of cinnamon and apples, warming her as she drank. As distasteful to her as luxury usually was, it was nice to finally drink out of something that didn't leave the aftertaste of tin. The tent was more of a pavilion. The large main room ended at the entrance at one end and a sleeping chamber and study at the other. Taliah suspected Jessa also used it as a chapel on days of worship.

Jessa reached out and took Taliah's hand "Your sense of righteousness has always been strong, Taliah. You've learned the hard lesson that war isn't about fighting and dying for ideology so much as fighting and dying for the man beside you. Now that Joscelin is gone, what will you fight for?" The paladin's boots splayed out in front of her and she set the teacup on the knee-high table by her seat. Taliah looked at the women without raising her head, her grey gaze come from under her brows. "The Light has a plan for you, paladin. Will you embrace it or will you surrender to your grief and rage?" the words were delivered gently enough, but there was no mistaking the challenge they held.

"I will go where the Light leads me. I always have – I'm a soldier, I go where I'm sent."

"You've always been a hothead Taliah, and I pray that you will one day learn to rein in that temper. Remember that emotion is only weakness if we allow it to cloud our judgement." Jessa sighed and gave the woman's hand a squeeze. "Mercy is the mark of a paladin. Honour, compassion, forgiveness, even for the enemy – that is what it means to serve the Light, and it is not always easy. To nurture such negative emotion…it only turns to poison. How can you serve the Light when the only things you feel anymore are rage, hate and sorrow?" Jessa could feel the intense flash of anger as she questioned the young woman's devotion. Taliah realized it as well, going from outraged to ashamed in a heartbeat. The High priestess' expression softened "You held vigil over Joss's grave, but did you really say goodbye?" The paladin shook her head violently and pressed the heels of her palms to her eyes. Slowly, she began to rock back and forth as if fighting every emotion she'd been failing to control since the Battle of Light's Hope. Jessa rose and closed the distance between them, placing a compassionate hand upon the paladin's head and Taliah flung her arms around the woman. Her face pressed into the Priestess's robes and the floodgates of her grief opened in a torrent of tears. Jessa stroked her hand comfortingly over Taliah's tangled hair "Carry Joscelin's love with you always, and he will never truly be gone. Grieve the love you lost... and forgive the one who took him from you." The High Priestess closed her eyes and offered herself to the Light, and what she saw made her shiver. "You will need Necrucian's strength, as he will need yours before this journey is over."

The sun was down and the stars lit up the sky. The fetid haze that permeated the air in the Plaguelands seemed less prevalent here and soon, Necrucian knew, he would set foot on the first green grass he'd seen in five years. Acharon was busying himself with a deer carcase, tearing off great chunks of flesh and chewing noisily just outside of the firelight. The sound stopped abruptly and the deathcharger snorted as a woman in white robes stepped into the orange circle of light. The deathknight got to his feet somewhat defensively as she approached fearlessly. "It has been a long time, son of Lordaeron."

"I did not think you recognized me, my Lady." In his former life, he had been a guardsman in Capital City and his patrol route had often taken him by the Cathedral. Then only a young priestess in training, Jessa had always had a kind word and a cup of hot soup or cold drink for him depending on the weather. He and Sielle had sought her out to bless their unborn child.

"The Light always recognizes a good man, Aaros Marston."

"I may have been, once." The deathknight intoned gravely "Aaros is dead – Necrucian is all that remains. I am no longer a man, merely a weapon, only now I seek to destroy that which turned me into this" Necrucian gestured to himself in disgust "instead of those I once swore to protect."

"Will vengeance be all you fight for?" she asked, placing a hand upon the deathknight's black breastplate. Where a heart should have beaten, there was only stillness. The woman's touch burned with the Light as she searched his soul, but he did not back away. "There is darkness in you Aaros, but there is no evil. So long as you can control your negative emotions, do not hesitate to let them make you powerful once more."

"Strange words coming from a High Priestess of the Light." He remarked. The burning sensation eased as the woman withdrew the power she wielded and the throbbing in his chest slowly dissipated. The last time he'd laid eyes on her, she was blessing Arthas' forces as they boarded the ships bound for Northrend. She didn't look much different despite the fact she was on the long end of her thirties. A hint of grey touching her golden mane and smile lines sat at the corners of her crystal blue eyes.

"You are not a paladin, Aaros. Your power comes not from the Light, but that does not make you an evil man." She reached up to touch his cheek with her fingertips, but the deathknights hand closed about her wrist.

"The hundreds I cut down may beg to differ." Necrucian replied dryly. He could have easily crushed Jessa's wrist, but while his grip was firm, it was not ungentle. "I can never atone for what I've done."

"Taliah told me what happened to Sielle and your child, Aaros." The priestess' voice was kind, but her compassion cut him like a knife.

"I don't want your pity, my Lady." His words were gruff in warning.

"I did not offer it." The priestess replied simply "You are not culpable for the destruction you caused, Aaros. You were a merely a pawn – it is the puppet master who is to blame." The deathknight's grip on her wrist eased and Jessa's hand cupped his square, stubble covered jaw. Necrucian's eyes closed at her touch. It was so warm and alive, and it made the dead man's still heart ache. "Forgive yourself, Aaros. There is enough hatred in this world, do not add to it by hating yourself for that which you could not control."

"Where is Taliah?" he spoke before he could stop himself. The deathknight did not know why he asked, or why he cared. His glowing blue eyes opened slowly and Jessa smiled.

"Sleeping in my tent. She has said her goodbyes and is in much need of rest." The priestess' fingers traced the deathknight's bruised jaw. "You are two sides of the same coin, Aaros. You the Dark, she the Light. It is not by chance you have been thrown together. There is more at work here than the Light lets even I see."

"How do you know the girl, Jessa?" Necrucian's brow furrowed "'Dawnstar' is familiar, but I cannot put another face to the name."

Again the priestess' full lips pulled back in a smile "Mairyn Dawnstar was head gardener to King Terenas for many years. His daughter was a pretty girl who visited the Cathedral often to worship." The furrow in the deathknights brow deepened.

"I…remember now. He disappeared suddenly. Rumour had it he was spy from Alterac and was forced to flee." Necrucian unconsciously pressed his face to her touch.

"Considering Mairyn was a son of Stromgarde and loyal to a fault to the House of Menethil, I find that bit of fiction amusing." The woman chuckled softly "Dawnstar was no traitor; his daughter merely had the temerity to accept the love of a boy beyond her station, and for that, Mairyn and his daughter were sent away."

Necrucian was just becoming confused now, but when he opened his mouth to speak, the priestess put her fingers to his lips "Peace, Aaros. It is not my story to tell." Rising to her toes, Jessa's lips brushed the deathknight's cool, bloodless cheek. "Go with the Light, Aaros. Forgive yourself; you have suffered enough. You are not unworthy of kindness and compassion, son of Lordaeron, nor are you unable to return it when it is offered. Your humanity is not lost to you; seek and ye shall find."

The priestess' touch lingered long after she had melted back into the darkness and Taliah appeared just after dawn, accompanied by the priestess. The paladin's armour had been mended and buffed and from all appearances, so had she. Taliah's hair was clean and pulled back into a tail at the nape of her neck and the permadirt under her fingernails was finally gone. The fact she smelled faintly of lilacs made the deathknight chuckle.

"The High Priestess is indeed a miracle worker. She seems to have made a lady out of you." Necrucian gave them both a courtly bow.

"Fuck you, deathknight." The paladin snorted and adjusted a buckle on Valiant's new bridle. It was plain leather with brass fittings, simple but elegant.

"It's a superficial illusion, I assure you." Jessa gave him a smile that felt like a warm beam of sunlight in the dead of winter. "She merely smells better. Only divine intervention could stop her from cursing."

"It's all part of my charm." Taliah tucked a stray lock behind her ear "We'd better be on our way before Valorfist gets all puffy and indignant again." Jessa embraced Taliah and kissed her brow.

"May the Light bless your path, Taliah." The priestess turned to the deathknight and placed her hand upon his lifeless heart "Seek and ye shall find, Necrucian." He bowed and swung into the saddle as the paladin did likewise. "Give your mother my regards when you reach Southshore."

Taliah saluted and turned Valiant south, but as Necrucian made to follow, Jessa put a hand on his leg, speaking only when the paladin was out of earshot. "The days will grow darker before this is over, Aaros. All is not what it seems old friend, be wary."

Necrucian took her hand and pressed his lips to her smooth knuckles. "Thank you for your kindness, and your words of warning." Jessa nodded and took a step back as the deathknight touched his spurs to Acharon's side. The deathcharger bounded forward at a hard canter and Jessa watched the pair for a long moment, her expression touched with sadness.

"May the Light have mercy on you both... you'll not find much of it otherwise, where you're going.."


	9. Chapter 9

Nine.

The smell of smoke awakened the paladin before dawn. Taliah sat up in her bedroll, fighting panic and a sudden wave of nausea. She'd been dreaming about Anderhal again; the undead pouring into the streets in a shrieking mass to set upon Gavinrad's three hundred men. It had been her first real combat experience and it had unnerved the girl profoundly. The men that died weren't just killed, the sheer numbers of foes pulled some of them down, their flesh torn from their still living bodies as they screamed and fought. Taliah shivered and staggered to her feet as the smoke made her lungs burn. There was something else on the wind, and it was far too familiar.

"You smell it too…" Necrucian stood on the opposite side of the fire, still as stone. His helm, a great fanged and horned monstrosity that resembled a demon skull, was clenched in his hand. The breeze stirred his shoulder length, faded brown hair and Redemption was unsheathed. They were two days out of Chillwind and everything had been quiet until now.

"Aye…smells like - " Taliah's voice was thick as she fought the urge to vomit.

"..death." The dark knight finished. "The steading on Jessa's map… how far was it?"

Taliah's jaw and the skin beneath her right eye twitched. Shoving her scabbard into her belt, the paladin whistled and Valiant appeared from the darkness to stand in the low glow of the campfire. Without greeting or preamble, she offered him the bridle and vaulted onto the stallion's back. "Taliah, we have more important matters to attend to. We can't run around playing the hero every time something happens." The beast could feel the paladin's excitement and pranced in place. She pointed a bare finger at the deathknight as though she were about to start arguing with him as Valiant bounced in an excited circle. Instead, she turned her mount south, in the direction of the smoke and with a hiss, sent the destrier off at a gallop. "Paladins…"

The steading had been little more than a half-dozen small homes clustered together around communal barns and fields in the fertile land at the edge of the foothills. It was even less than that now. The corn crop, a day from harvest, smouldered in the field. The flames that devoured the barns and dwellings roared like living things as Valiant and Taliah moved through the smoke and destruction as though walking through a waking nightmare. Only the sound of fire and collapsing timbers disturbed the scene, the flames washing everything in hellish shades of crimson and gold. The livestock had been slaughtered down to the last chicken, their bodies strewn about the yard and left to rot. She knew this wasn't the work of bandits; they would have made off with anything of value.

As Valiant's wary stride took them past the barn, they found the first body. Taliah slid from the destrier's back and Peacemaker slid from its place at her hip. Dawn was just a pink and gold promise in the east and the shifting flames made the shadows dance eerily. The corpse's skull had been crushed by something blunt and heavy. If it weren't for the shining steel in its hand and the untarnished mail it wore, the paladin may have mistaken the body for Scourge.

"Forsaken…." It took all of her control to rein in her rage. The Scourge could almost be pitied; while they were mindless and horrifying, they were also merely puppets enslaved to the will of the Lich King. The Forsaken were something else entirely. The paladin left the corpse where it lay and continued on. Valiant seemed as nervous as she did, his head up and nostrils flared, his ears swivelling, all his keen senses made useless by the fire, smoke and shifting shadows.

The bodies of the steaders lay where they had fallen, the men and the boys old enough to hold a weapon cut down with blades while the elderly, women and children lay between them and the tree line, feathered with arrows as they'd tried to escape. Taliah walked among the dead, desperately checking for signs of life, but the Forsaken had been thorough. All of the corpses sported a wide red grin across their throats, even the infants and children. It was only when her head began to ache that the paladin realized her teeth were clenched and grinding. The young woman sank to her knees in the bloody grass as she looked down at the corpse of a child not even old enough to crawl. Cold and white in death, it had tumbled from the arms of its dying mother and met its end with a blade to the throat.

Gently, Taliah picked up the babe as though it were still alive, cradling its head and holding it close, feeling tears spill down her cheeks before placing the infant next to its mother. The paladin wiped the blood from her hands onto her breeches and wiped at her eyes with her sleeve. She got to her feet, feeling the nausea more intensely now and turned away, trying to steel herself against it.

From the smell of it, some of the families had not escaped their burning homes. The light of dawn crested the hills and birds began to sing softly. The air was chill and the deathknight found both destrier and paladin steaming in the frosty air. The dead were lined up, drag marks in the hoary grass leaving tell-tales of the exhausted paladin's travails. Her hands were crimson with blood, her breeches and tunic similarly stained. Already the crows were starting to circle.

"We don't have time to bury them, Talaih." Necrucian felt nothing as he looked down at the bodies. Not even the children's corpses stirred emotion in him. He had not killed them and thus he had no reason to mourn them. It was obvious the paladin felt differently and her grey eyes flashed with anger.

"I won't just leave them for the crows." she snapped "They deserve a decent burial."

"Aye, that may be, but there are only two of us and two dozen of them. It would take days to dig a pit big enough to contain them, let alone dig a grave for each. We do not have time for this." the deathknight countered "The only reason I even gave this place a second look was to make sure you hadn't ended up on the business end of someone's sword. Your gear is still back at the campsite. Get mounted, we're leaving."

"To hell with you, Scourge." The paladin snarled "I won't just leave them like this!"

"There's nothing to be done for them, Tal-" To his right, Valiant left off his grazing, his head jerking upwards, ears pricked and swivelling alertly as the wind shifted. The two warriors left off what was sure to become a violent argument and watched the stallion trot over to the tree line with a great, blowing snort. He disappeared into the forest and Taliah stared after him blankly for a long moment before suddenly breaking into a run, pelting after the destrier. With an irritate sigh, Necrucian followed, keeping a tight reign on the deathcharger that looked over the corpses hungrily.

Valiant followed the scent of fear and the soft, mewling whimpers that drifted on the breeze. The dead leaves from the canopy above, still in the colours of late autumn, came down in a gentle shower as the destrier picked his way though a jumble of fieldstones. The stallion stopped at the source of the distress and cocked his head in curiosity. Reaching down, Valiant nosed the tiny, quivering form beneath a cedar bush. It squeaked in terror as his soft muzzle brushed against it and he looked over his shoulder as he heard his paladin crashing about in the brush in her efforts to catch up.

Taliah's feet slid in the damp autumn leaves, her eyes coming to rest on the trembling lump at Valiant's feet. "By the Light…" The paladin knelt and reached out slowly almost afraid that was she was seeing wasn't really there. The child, no more than a toddler, would not look at her, his tiny hands pressed to his dirty face. Her fingertips brushed his dark hair and the boy shrank from her touch. "I won't hurt you." Taliah's soft, gentle tone seemed to stir something in the toddler and his blue eyes opened. When he saw that she was human and not some sort of monstrosity, he leaped at her, his arms locking around her neck and burying his little face into her shoulder. Not really sure what else to do, Taliah put her arms about the boy and held him to her.


	10. Chapter 10

Ten.

As the child sniffled and nearly throttled her as his shoulder pressed into her throat, Taliah had not a clue what to do next. Her exposure to small children had been minimal and at a distance. Growing up among the Silver Hand, she had been the youngest and last of the children they had taken in as squires. The boy clung to her like a tick as his tears soaked her bloodstained tunic and after a few awkward minutes, instinct took over where inexperience left off. Picking her way carefully through the jumbles of fieldstones and wet leaves, the paladin kissed the child's head and shushed him gently. Her hands, calloused from years of holding a sword, stroked gently over his heaving back. As she stepped out of the treeline, Necrucian looked down at her and she heard him give a heavy sigh, despite the full helm he wore. "Taliah.." from his tone, she got the impression that she had just brought home an unwelcomed stray puppy.

"Shall I leave him here for the scavengers too?" she hissed. Taliah turned to Valiant and remembered belatedly that he had no saddle and she tried to puzzle out how to get on the tall destrier. The child sniffled and peaked over her shoulder with a hiccup. Necrucian's eyes glowed from the slits in the big fanged and horned helm he wore and the boy's eyes widened in renewed terror.

The child's shriek was high and piercing, like the whistle on a kettle only more so and the girl's face held the same look as someone who'd just been handed a lit powder keg and told to cuddle it. Taliah winced in pain, both from the ringing in her left ear and vicelike grip the boy had about her neck. It was all she could do to restrain herself from clapping a hand over the left side of her head to protect herself from the noise. The paladin turned to face the deathknight, and Necrucian would have laughed had the shrieking child not just told everything in earshot where they were.

"Keep him quiet!" the deathknight commanded "I don't care if you have to gag him." Taliah glared daggers at Necrucian as she lead her destrier to a half-finished stone wall that bordered the smouldering cornfield. She gingerly climbed atop it and slid onto Valiant's back as the child's shriek turned back into traumatized sobbing.

"Ignore the big mean man." She soothed, still glaring at Necrucian who made a noise of disgust. The deathknight suddenly straightened and turned Acharon abruptly to the west. He sat upon the deathcharger, silent and alert. Taliah's gaze turned in the same direction, her brows drawing together in a scowl as she touched the Light and felt the sudden darkness of intent all about her. Necrucian felt it too.

Acharon sidepassed without warning, jostling Valiant who snapped at him, and Necrucian thrust the stained and filthy canvas satchel at Taliah as the paladin glared at him annoyance. She took it without question and pulled the strap over her head, letting it slide over her and the boy to rest about her hips. With the armful she had, there was no way she could draw steel anyway. "Taliah." His voice was completely calm "Run."

"But my saddle.. my armour and food.. they're still back at camp." Still the child clung to her tenaciously.

Redemption cleared the sheath on his back and he pointed the business end at the woman holding the child. "Go! I'll find you afterwards." He boomed. When she began to protest, he swung his greatsword and landed a ringing slap with the flat of his blade to Valiant's rump "Ride, woman! The Forsaken are coming!"

Valiant reared in outrage, forcing Taliah to cling to him with her thighs and calves, but before the stallion could strike out at Necrucian for his affront, the paladin yanked his head around and pointed him south. As his hooves came to earth she dug in her heels and the stallion's hooves threw great clods of earth as he sprinted away.

Taliah let Valiant run until he was blown and lathered, his hide becoming so slick it was hard to hang on. The stallion's head hung low as he slowed to a walk, and from the way he stumbled on the stone-strewn ground, he'd lost a shoe. Tired as he was, the paladin could not let him just stop nor could she let him drink though he was desperate for water. The river was far to cold and the horse was far too hot, his body steaming in the chilly morning air. The last thing she needed right now was a horse dead from colic. The boy had gone silent, only whimpering now and again as he continued to tremble. Had it not been for the child that clung to her, she would have stayed and fought, more than a little hungry to punish those that had slaughtered the people of the steading. Had it not been for the child, she never would have let Valiant run so hard for so long, nor would she have left Necrucian, irritating though he was.

"I wan my mommy..." the tiny, frightened voice was muffled in her tunic and broken by a hiccup. It nearly broke her heart and Taliah wondered how she would explain to a toddler that he would never see his family again.

"I…uh…" For the first time in a while, the paladin was at a loss for words "Your mother is gone, little one." She could think of nothing else to say. The black-haired boy looked up at her with impossibly big blue eyes, the colour of a mid-day sky.

"Where she go? She come back for me?" Taliah could feel the tears coming, but shoved the image of the murdered men, women and children from her mind. "The monsters hurt her." His last words were matter-of-fact.

"Yes, they did." The paladin replied gently "But now she's somewhere the monsters can't hurt her."

"Daddy too?"

"Aye, daddy too.."

"Ambry and Tissa, too?" The boy's brow furrowed and his lip stuck out in a pout "Did da monsters make dem go 'way too?"

_Light help me… _"Aye…" Taliah felt her throat tighten "They've all gone away."

"Oh…" The boy, so pale and tired, seemed to let these facts roll around in his three year old brain. "What your name?" The paladin blinked at the sudden change of subject. She had expected crying, not curiosity.

"Er.. my name is Taliah." The bird around them sang in the bows of the trees and the gentle breeze caused a few leaves to stir and drift downwards. The air warmed as the sun rose from behind the foothills and the day would have been perfect had it not been for the scene of senseless slaughter the paladin had seen.

"You has a knife." The boy pointed at the sword on her hip "You can make da monsters go 'way?" The paladin kissed the boy on the brow and he blinked expectantly.

"Aye." She smiled, but it was all teeth and she had to fight to keep the ferocity from her voice "I'll make the monsters go away. No one will hurt you, little one." Whatever she'd expected from a child who'd more than likely seen his entire family slaughtered, a laundry list of questions that were completely unrelated to the tragedy was surely not it. He wanted to know everything; the pretty horsey's name, what the badge her shirt meant and why she smelled like flowers. His mommy smelled like flowers too.

"What's your name, little one?" she smoothed his tousled hair and picked a piece of leaf from his curls. The boy grinned.

"I'm Thomas and I'm free!" he declared and seemed proud that he remembered, "See? One, two, free!" he held up the required number of tiny, delicate fingers and Taliah couldn't help but smile.

When they came to a sheltered stand of pine by the river, Taliah called a halt and slid off Valiant's back. She landed awkwardly as she held the still-clinging child to her, but somehow managed to not fall on her arse. The paladin checked the stallion's chest for heat and found none. Valiant, his hide crusted with dried sweat and dust, walked away down to the river, wading chest deep into the water. The beast stuck his face in near up to his eyes and drank with great, greedy gulps. The paladin felt horrible for pushing her beloved comrade so hard, but there hadn't been a choice. Thomas rubbed his eyes with a wide yawn and Taliah took advantage of his loosened grip to set the boy on the ground. He wrapped his little arms about her knee, as though afraid she would leave him. _Why shouldn't he be afraid … everyone else he's ever known is gone_.

Bone weary, Taliah put her back to a big birch and slid down the tree with a groan. She pulled her scabbard from her belt and set the satchel beside her, both within easy reach. Without hesitation, the boy climbed into her lap and the paladin could not help but put her arms around him protectively. It was not long before he fell asleep, his little hands curled up near his face and his long black lashes brushing his cheeks. He weighed nothing in her arms and she watched his chest rise and fall as he breathed, marvelling at the resilience of the tiny life she now had to care for. Taliah let her cheek rest gently upon the crown of his head and closed her eyes. Tired as she was, she had to fight the urge to fall asleep.

Mentally, she took stock of their situation, which was not even in the same geographical hemisphere as 'ideal'. They had no food. She had no armour, not even a cloak, and no blankets. She had no saddle and no replacement shoe for the one Valiant had thrown. She had nothing with which to make fire. What she did have was a tired horse that she had possibly lamed, a satchel of vital documents, a toddle who would soon be hungry and cold, a sword and more water than they could ever drink. "This has not been my best day ever." If Necrucian had been killed or could not find them, Taliah reflected, she was going to be in real trouble.

The boy in her arms began to stir about an hour after her arse had gone numb from sitting on the cold, lumpy ground. Thomas yawned and stretched, rubbing his eyes with tiny fists. He looked around in bleary confusion before looking up at the woman you held him. "Hungry?" Taliah asked and the boy nodded. "Lets get you cleaned up a bit, we're both pretty dirty." With a groan, the paladin got to her feet without setting the boy down and walked stiffly to the river.

"You gots red stuff on you." He observed "Lots of red stuff." Taliah knelt on a sandy stretch of the river and scrubbed her face and hands while keeping a wary eye on Thomas, who busied himself by making a little mound of sand with his cupped hands. She beckoned the boy to her and he did not hesitate. Gently scrubbing his face with only water and her fingertips, she got most of the grime off his cherub cheeks and picked a few more leaves out of his mop of curls. His hair was a black as her own and his blue eyes reminded her of Joscelin's. She could not help but wonder if their child would have looked like this boy, had Joss only lived long enough to father one. The thought of what might have been didn't make her quite as sad as she feared it might.

She cupped her hand and dipped it into the river, putting it to the child's lips so he could drink and she held him gently so that he might not slip into the water. The boy drank two handfuls and seemed satisfied. Taliah cupped water to her lips again and again, not realizing how thirsty she was. Returning to the shelter of the trees, Taliah ran her hands over Valiant while Thomas sat at her feet playing with a stick. The stallion's right knee was hot and swollen and his shoeless right hoof bled from a serious quarter-crack. Despite his pain the destrier stood quietly as she checked him over. He bore her no ill will and snerfled through his paladin's hair as she knelt at his feet.

"Valant has an ouchie." The boy pointed at the bleeding hoof and Taliah gently guided his hand away when he tried to touch the injury.

"Yes, he's got an …ouchie…" Taliah placed her hands upon Valiant's right knee, her fingers wrapping gently around the inflamed join. "But I'm going to make him all better." Closing her eyes, the paladin opened herself to the Light, beseeching its aid. She felt it respond, cloaking her in warmth which she redirected to the destrier's injury. Taliah could feel the tiny chips of bone irritating the cartilage and the strained tendons and ligaments around the joint and could see them in her mind. She channelled the healing energy of the Light into the injury. Slowly, the swelling and heat in the connective tissues, muscle and skin dissipated, the bone chips dissolving into nothingness. Her hands glowed with a steady white light as they slid down the stallion's lower foreleg and wrapped around his damaged hoof. Sand, mud and gravel pushed from the wound and slowly it sealed. He was going to be sore for a few days, but at least he would not be permanently lame.

Taliah opened her eyes and her shoulders slumped as she gave a long, tired exhale. Healing had always come harder to her than channelling the Light for more martial purposes and left her feeling drained. Thomas peaked around your shoulder as though to inspect her work. He began with his questions again; was 'Valant' going to be alright, and if he was, could she go back and do the same to mommy and daddy where the monsters had hurt them. Taliah grimaced and took him by the hand, setting him in her lap as she sat against the birch once more.

"Sometimes people get hurt…" the paladin tried to pick her words carefully, and felt poorly prepared for it. It was so much easier to just be blunt, but this was not the time. "…and they're hurt to bad for the Light to help them."

"Dat's when dey go 'way?" the boy's brow furrowed and tears came to his eyes. Taliah wiped them gently away with her thumb.

"Aye, that's when they have to go away." She smiled sadly "I'm sorry I couldn't help them, love."

The boy put his arms around her. "We eat now?" The boy was adept at randomly changing the subject, and for that she was grateful. Things were so simple for children sometimes. Taliah was almost jealous. The paladin held the boy close and kissed the crown of his head.

"Soon.. I hope."


	11. Chapter 11

Eleven.

Taliah jerked awake as something large moved through the brush and mentally berated herself for having nodded off. Her hand went instinctively to the sword on the ground beside her, but the child that clung to her was a new element to an otherwise practiced move and as a consequence she almost dropped him. She set the boy hastily on the ground and unsheathed Peacemaker. "Thomas, get behind me." Her voice was firm and the boy scrambled to obey as the dark shape moved closer. "Necrucian?"

"Taliah…" the deathknight's hollow voice was hoarse with pain as Acharon shoved his way through the trees. His rider was slumped forward in the saddle, half a dozen arrows protruding from his breastplate. Planting Peacemaker into the ground, the paladin rushed to Necrucian's side as he leaned precariously towards her. She caught him as he fell, but he was so heavy the paladin could not support him and the dark knight crashed down atop her. He gave a roar as the arrows drove deeper into his flesh. Behind her, the paladin heard Thomas start to wail in fear. There wasn't much she could do for the boy at the moment and grunted as she rolled Necrucian off of her as gently as she was able. His helm rolled free and the deathknight gave a wet caught as the black ichor that past for his blood drooled from the corner of his mouth. For a moment, Taliah was back in the Plaguelands, watching Joscelin die. She shook her head to clear her mind and grabbed the deathknight by the gorget, hauling him into a seated position. "T…take the supplies from….Acharon's saddle bags… continue go Southshore."

"Shut up." She jerked the dagger from his belt and looked at the backplate of his armour. None of the arrows had punched out the other side, so she removed the fletched ends with deft flicks of the blade before prying off his breastplate. The leather underpadding was soaked in slick black blood and pushed into the wounds at the point of entry, forcing her to cut it away. Behind her, the child's wail had become soft sobbing.

Necrucian groaned and caught the paladin's wrist in a crushing grip. "I. Said. GO." Pupiless azure eyes glared into stubborn grey ones and the paladin's jaw set.

"And I said 'shut up'." She replied through clenched teeth "Now let go of me before I knock you the fu-" the paladin caught herself before she could finish the word "-knock you on your rear." Necrucian gave a weak laugh, but he also let her go.

"You.. can't heal me with the Light, paladin." He grated as she held his powerful shoulder to steady him. "It will kill me."

"Don't tempt me." She growled "You don't get to die... not yet. I will do whatever it takes to get you mended… short of human sacrifice."

The deathknight chuckled and Taliah sat back on her heels, a brow rising. The last part had been meant as a joke, but Necrucian's laugh held no humour. "Funny you should .. say that. Only fresh blood will heal these wounds." The paladin made a face.

"I don't suppose it could be rat blood or something?"

"You only wish." Necrucian shook his head "Just go, Taliah. Leave me to my fate and go to Southshore. Complete our mission." Gritting his teeth, Necrucian planted the heel of his hand against the stubbed end of the arrow and gave it a shove, howling in pain as the arrowhead exited his back. The deathknight did the same to the other five shafts, growling and snarling like a rabid bear all the while.

"For the love of the Light, just shut up already." The paladin growled as she grabbed the arrows behind the heads and drew the shafts from his back one by one. When she was done, Necrucian lay back roughly upon the leaves in exhaustion. With a deep breath, the paladin glanced back at Thomas, whose eyes were wide and terrified "Close your eyes love. Don't watch." Obediently, the boy's eyes squeezed shut, his hands clapping over them and turned his face away as though for good measure. Once sure the child wasn't watching, Taliah drew the dagger across the heel of her hand, opening a four-inch wound that pumped a steady torrent of rich crimson.

The skin of the deathknight's bare, brawny chest was grey and Taliah half expected the flesh beneath to be jellied and decomposing. Instead, it was no different than if Necrucian had been still among the living, only cool to the touch. Looking down at the deathknight, Taliah pressed her wound to one of the ichor-seeping holes in his chest. Necrucian's body arched beneath her touch and he growled in pain, his hands clawing at the forest floor. The puncture seemed to draw at the blood pumping from the wound like a babe on the teat, and the sensation was both unnerving and nauseating to say the least. Long minutes past before the holes in the deathknight's chest, and the other wounds she'd not yet address, began to smoke and close, leaving behind white scars. The paladin pulled her hand away with difficulty, feeling as though the deathknight's injury was trying to suck the very life out of her. It was the last to close, leaving a stark white scar on the left side of his chest.

Her hand throbbed white-hot with pain and Taliah fell back feeling weak, dizzy and sick. Thomas ran to her, throwing his arms around her neck as the paladin blinked up at the forest canopy. "I'm alright, little one." Her voice was tired and did little to calm the boy. Closing her eyes, Taliah called upon the Light once more and felt its warmth course through her. She turned her thoughts to the wound upon her hand, but in her state of near collapse, channelling the healing power of the Light proved difficult. It was hard to concentrate and the paladin was forced to block out everything else in order to focus her formidable will upon the task at hand. Her blood seeped into the forest floor, but the wound began to close as the world faded to black around her.

It was dark when she awakened. The paladin lay on one blanket while another covered her from foot to chin. As her clouded mind began to come around, Taliah felt a sudden stab of panic and almost sat bolt upright until she felt the warmth of a small body curled beside her. She peeked under the blanket and felt a profound sense of relief upon seeing the child cuddled against her, clinging to her bloodstained tunic. The air was cold, but the fire that crackled not far away held the chill at bay. Necrucian sat across from her on the other side of the fire, alert and on guard and seeming none the worse for wear.

"Welcome back." He said, keeping his eerie voice quiet. The deathknight rose, a large tin cup in hand. A small pot sat warming by the fire and he spooned thick, dark broth into the empty mug.

"How long was I out?" She felt vulnerable, still weakened by the blood sacrifice she'd made to save the deathknight. Necrucian knelt and put a hand under her shoulders to help her rise up enough to drink before putting the warm cup to her lips. The 'soup' was little more than travel rations of dried meat and vegetables boiled in water, but at the moment it was better than ambrosia.

"A while." Was all the deathknight said, letting her swallow before putting the cup to her lips again. It took her a long time to finish, but it felt good to be full of food and warm again.

Even rolling on her side felt like a trial, and she put her arms around the child as he whimpered and twitched in his sleep. "Would he eat anything?" She jumped, flinching in surprise as the boy pressed his face between her breasts and began to suck his thumb. She felt her cheeks burn and she glanced up at Necrucian who merely smirked and got to his feet.

"The boy eats like a starving weasel and clings to you like a tick." Necrucian took his place across the fire, resting his elbows on his knees. "Don't get too attached to him, Taliah. We leave him in Southshore. A ship in late-autumn seas is no place for a child."

"I'm not 'getting attached'." She replied defensively though her hand cradled the back of the boy's head as he slept.

"You're a very poor liar, paladin." The deathknight snorted as he leaned back against a tree.

"Did any of the Forsaken get away?" she felt a change of subject was in order and from the smirk that turned into a sneer that showed the deathknight's bone-white teeth, she guessed the answer was 'no'. "Don't suppose you went back for my equipment…"

The deathknight made a rude hand gesture but smiled, if only a little "No, your personal belongings were not foremost on my mind when I had a half a dozen pointy sticks protruding from my chest." Despite her fatigue, Taliah chuckled softly as her eyelids felt heavy. "Get some sleep, paladin. If you're fit enough, we'll ride out before midday."

"How is Valiant?" her voice was soft and sleepy and the small, warm body in her arms was inordinately comforting in a way she was hard-pressed to reconcile.

"Your rotten, miserable bastard is fine, but if he chases me up a tree again, you and I are going to have words." Taliah's eyes closed as a smile tugged at her lips and her words were barely audible as she drifted off into the darkness of sleep

"Good boy, Valiant…."


	12. Chapter 12

Twelve.

Thomas shifted in his sleep and Taliah's eyes fluttered open. Necrucian sat in the same spot as when she'd drifted off and his face was devoid of expression as their eyes met. Glancing under the blanket, Thomas was also right where he'd been when she drifted off and her cheeks coloured slightly despite the sunburn. Gently dislodging his fingers from her bloodstained jerking, the paladin slid from under the blanket. Staggering to her feet, Taliah stretched with a soft groan and she flexed her hand. The slash to the palm was pink with new skin and the throb was barely noticeable anymore though it should have hurt like hell. She still felt weak, but the sensation was not as intense as it had been before. The paladin's eyes narrowed. "Necrucian. How long was I out?"

"A few hours." He shrugged and fed another log into the fire. The colour of the sky heralded the approaching dawn as it faded from inky black to deep blue.

"I mean before I asked the last time." She could see Valiant's ghostly shape moving through the forest as he walked towards the river to graze. "And no evasive bullshit answer this time."

Necrucian looked up at her from the rock he sat upon "Four days." Taliah just blinked at him for a long moment as though letting his words sink in "You should not have offered so much. The darkness that empowers me thirsts and hungers – had you not pulled back when you did, you would have been unconscious for much longer. Or worse."

"So sorry," she replied dryly "you don't exactly come with an instruction manual." The paladin approached the fire and squatted before it, ladling some of the thick broth from the small pot into the cup beside it. Ravenously hungry, she drank it off and filled the cup again. "Might have been nice to know beforehand."

Necrucian looked into the fire "I didn't know it would affect the living in such a way. Its not like the others were in a position to tell me how it felt. Dead men don't complain much." The air was chill, and Taliah shivered. The killing frosts were not far off, and without her armour and cloak, she was not prepared to meet it. Nor was Thomas. She emptied the pot into the cup and drank half in a go. "No more delays. If the Forsaken find us again we run if we can. If we can't run, we fight. Winter is coming, and soon. The boy won't survive without proper clothing and shelter. Nor will you." Necrucian's voice was grave and delivered in such a way that made Taliah raise a brow in irritation. "Valiant seems hail despite the lost shoe. If we push from dawn until dusk, we can make the port in four days." The deathknight continued and his gaze shifted the lump under the blankets. Taliah sighed, her breath steaming in the cold air as the sky began to turn a lighter shade of blue shot through with orange and pink clouds.

"It will be hard Thomas." Her words were clouded with worry as the lump beneath the blankets shifted and whimpered, then began to sob. Taliah was at the boy's side in an instant, gently pulling away the blanket to find him huddled and crying. The paladin picked up the child, cradling him in her arms and soothing him in tender tones. "It's alright, Thomas." Taliah cooed softly. "Did you have bad dreams?" The child stuffed his thumb into his mouth and nodded as tears spilled down his cheeks. Taliah kissed his brow and rocked him, wiping the lines of moisture from his face. "Do you see that big, strong man over there?" She pointed at the deathknight and the boy did look, but it wasn't more than a quick peek. Despite the fact that Taliah had been unconscious, leaving the deathknight to care for the boy, the child had not warmed to him the way he clung to the paladin. As traumatized as the boy was, Necrucian could not fault him for it. "He won't let anyone hurt you, nor will I."

The deathknight merely nodded and Thomas buried his face into Taliah's chest once more. Watching the woman lavish such obvious affection and concern on the child made him unwontedly uncomfortable and he rose, gathered up the waterskins and made his way down to the river.

He put a hand to Sielle's rounded belly and felt the child within move. They lay abed, his arms about his wife as she rested against him. "Such a kick." Aaros beamed with pride "He'll be the envy of every man in the section – none will have a son as strong." He nuzzled Sielle's ear and she laughed, placing her small hands upon his much larger ones.

"_And if it's a girl?" Sielle rested the back of her head against his chest, her golden hair, like spun silk, brushing his bare skin._

"_Then she'll be the envy of every woman in Lordaeron if she has even a tenth of her mother's beauty. She'll be the darling of Capital City and marry some find lordling." For that, Marston got a pillow in the face and a playful shove. He laughed and grabbed Sielle's slim wrists in a gentle grip._

"_And what if she wants to join the city guard and server the greater good, like her father?" his wife demanded playfully, still trying to bat at him._

"_No daughter of mine is going to stand out in the rain, snow and heat on watch during the day and wade into tavern fights at night. It's unseemly." Aaros hoped his wife was joking. He wasn't, despite his light tone. With a laugh, Sielle changed the subject._

"_And what shall we call our babe if it's a boy?" She stroked a finger up his jaw to move a stray lock of chestnut hair behind his ear. His hazel eyes drank in her face, with its high cheekbones, fill lips and slim, sweeping brows. When he'd first met her, just the blue of her gaze had stolen his heart._

"_Perhaps we should name him Carlen, after your father. It may make him hate me a little less." Aaros kissed her brow "Even after two years he still thinks I married above my pay grade." Sielle kissed him tenderly and smiled._

"_He doesn't hate you, he just doesn't know you. He will learn to love you in time and see all of the fine qualities in you that stole my heart." His hand cupped her cheek and his thumb ran gently over her lower lip. Sielle closed her eyes and pressed her face into his hand._

"_What qualities are those?" he grinned "My dashing good looks? My skill with a sword?" His eyebrows wiggled and his wife did not miss the double entendre, which only made her laugh again, a sound that made the song of a lark seem drab in comparison._

"_No, you lout." Her delicate index finger traced over his heart "You've the heart of a lion, my love; more loyal and powerful than the finest destrier, and more noble than even Prince Arthas."_

"_But good looking and good with a sword too, right?" He interjected with a grin that made her laugh and slap him lightly on the chest. Aaros put his arms around her again, his hand slipping to her belly once more, his touch at once tender but also protective._

He remembered well that little three-room home of stone, wood and mortar tucked into the shadow of the city's poor southwestern quarter. It had been so much less than he wanted to give her and far less than he felt she deserved, but the pay of a city guard was enough to put a roof over their heads and food on the table, if little else. Sielle had never once complained. Two weeks later, offered the equivalent of a year's pay to join the Prince's forces heading to Northrend, he had left her behind with the promise that he would return and that their lives would be different. How painfully true that had turned out to be.

Necrucian didn't realize he'd come to the river until he was in it almost to the knees and berated himself for his lack of discipline. When he should have been alert, he was in the middle of a waking dream he only wanted to forget.

The frigid, fast moving water rushed about his legs as he filled up the water skins. The memories came unbidden and often, so intense they overlaid the reality around him as though the deathknight could walk around inside them. Necrucian wanted to rage, to howl in fury at the heavens for the unfairness of his fate. He wanted to weep for all that he had lost, and all that he had destroyed. He wanted the boy to look upon him the same way he looked at Taliah. He just wanted to _feel_ again and know with certainty that there was something worth living for besides the vengeance that burned in his dead heart.

If not for the paladin and the child, he could have ridden non-stop to the port town of Southshore. Neither he nor Acharon needed rest as Taliah and the boy did; he didn't need her to navigate, all he had to do from this point was follow the river. The paladin, however, was his only salvation from the populace once they got there, as they were much more likely to just feather him with arrows before hanging him from the tallest tree they could find. But now, she was more of a liability with her preoccupation with the boy's safety. And the boy… he was slowing them down and in pure, cold military terms, he was expendable should they run into more Forsaken raiders. In human terms, he was an innocent, helpless child who no more deserved the tragedy that befell him than Necrucian did and could not just be left behind. Not long ago, he'd have merely given the boy to Acharon as a snack. But not now, it bothered him that the child could barely stand to lay eyes on him.

When he returned to their campsite, Taliah had the boy on her lap, holding a cup of broth carefully to his lips. Acharon and Valiant had both wandered back and seemed restless, both destriers bobbing their heads with ears pricked to the north. Necrucian stopped abruptly and listened, as did Taliah. The sun was cresting the hills in the east and the golden glow of dawn stretched across Hillsbrad. The birds should have been greeting the morning with raucous calls, but the forest was deathly silent. When Valiant raised his head and let out a harsh blow of air through his distended nostrils, the deathknight knew it was time to go. The boy seemed to sense the tenseness in the air and his bottom lip quivered as he started to cry.

Necrucian stabbed his mailed finger at the boy, his blue eyes glowing balefully at the paladin as though to say _Keep him silent_ _or I will!_ and her eyes flashed threat in reply _Touch him, and I'll rip off your arm and beat you with it_. Her countenance softened immediately as she looked down at the boy. The deathknight wondered if the paladin was even aware of the split personality she was developing as she tapped a finger to her lips while she looked into the boy's eyes. The child began to tremble but his crying ceased as Necrucian stamped out the fire. He threw the saddle over Acharon's back, packing up the camp with silent, military efficiency.

Thomas clung to her leg trembling as she bridled Valiant. The stallion still looked off to the north, his ears swivelling alertly and his entire body tense, but true to his training, he stood like a stone. Taliah made a sound through her teeth, like bird's chirp and Necrucian glanced over his shoulder, approaching as she beckoned him over. Taliah reached down and picked the boy up and he stiffened and looked ready to cry as she handed him over to the deathknight. Picking up the blanket Necrucian hadn't yet stowed away, she tied the opposite ends together and began to fold the woollen cloth. When she was done, it looked like a pouch masquerading as a bandolier that she wore over one shoulder and beneath the opposite arm. The paladin turned, grabbed up her reins and a handful of Valiant's black mane, vaulting onto his back and gesturing quickly for the deathknight to hand her the boy. He did so, and she again motioned for the trembling toddler to be silent, kissing his brow as she fitted him into the folded blanket. The bandolier kept the boy snug to the front of her body and a corner covered his face. Necrucian swung onto his own mount and they melted into the forest like ghosts with only the smoking remnants of their fire and footprints to mark their passing.


	13. Chapter 13

Thirteen.

The air did not warm and by mid-day thick grey clouds obscured the sun. Necrucian had fished the second blanket out of his saddlebags and Taliah had fashioned it into a cloak, drawing it about herself and the boy. For hours, the paladin had channelled the Light to warm herself and the child, but the strain of such deep concentration had taken a terrible toll. Her exhaustion had forced her to cease the channelling prayers and the paladin would have to rely on the warmth of Valiant's body, captured within her makeshift cloak. They would move at a trot for hours at a stretch, and then have to slow to a walk again when Valiant grew winded and tired. They had passed from the foothills and forest into the flatlands and though he looked behind them often, the deathknight saw nothing. Still, he had the feeling that he and the paladin were being pushed by something malevolent.

Taliah looked down into her cloak and pulled the corner of the blanket away from the boy's face. He was sleeping peacefully and to her relief, was not shivering though her breath was steaming in the cold air. When the sun went down, it would only become worse. The days were growing short and the sun would be disappearing behind the hills at roughly six bells. The country they were in was so open, with only small patches of thin forest and by her reckoning, not even a hermit's tent between them and the ruined town of Tarren Mill.

There had been no words between her and Necrucian since that morning and the deathknight drove them on relentlessly. While they had been a dysfunctional but somewhat equal partnership previously, the deathknight had assumed a more dominant and authoritative roll. It chafed the paladin like wet leather and her already short temper was becoming frayed, but they could not stop, not out in the open. There was something malicious behind them, she could feel it as Necrucian did, and there would be no rest tonight. Valiant had suffered through all-night pushes in the past, and as much as she hated pushing the stallion beyond his limits, there was no choice now.

At two bells, Necrucian saw them, a mass of perhaps a dozen figures a few leagues behind them. Out in the open as they were, he knew they had seen him as well. Taliah hazarded a glance over her shoulder, her expression resigned as she spotted their pursuers. Unconsciously, the paladin put a hand protectively to the sling beneath her cloak and her jaw set at a stubborn angle. The temperature had dipped bellow freezing as the sun sat lower in the sky and the damp ground began to glisten with frost. Valiant's unshod hoof slid more than once as the ground became slick, but the worn out destrier did not balk or slow.

"They aren't in a hurry to catch up." Necrucian observed sourly "They know they have the advantage."

"Aye.." Taliah was tired and it was beginning to show. She was hungry and cold, but the part of her that cried out for a halt to the march was overpowered by the fiercer part that wanted to live to see the light of another day. "They're driving us before them like cattle, but the only thing between us, Tarren Mill and Southshore is a lot of river on one side, foothills on the other with a whole lot of nothing down the middle." The cold was biting now and Taliah's hands were going numb. "If they decide to run us down, there's no way Valiant can outrun them on this ground in his condition."

Necrucian pulled up alongside her suddenly and reached over, pulling her destrier to a halt. Valiant's ears pinned and he snapped at the deathknight's hand with a rusty-hinged squeal as Necrucian pulled the bridle from the stallion's head. "Then we leave him behind."

"What the hell are you doing, Scourge?" Taliah just looked at him in shock and outrage as the deathknight grabbed a fist-full of the cloak she wore and dragged her into his lap. She struggled fiercely, but he wrapped an arm around her, pinning the woman to him. "Have you gone mad? Let me go, you bastard!" The hood of her cloak fell back and beneath it he heard the boy wail in fear as she thrashed. Valiant seemed just as confused as his paladin and stood just looking at him.

"Stop squirming, woman." His cold lips brushed her ear and made her skin crawl. With a growl his spurs gouged into Acharon's ribs and the destrier sprang forward, not seeming to notice the extra weight he now carried. The deathknight gave Acharon his head, leaning slightly forward as his mount's stride lengthened and his sharp hooves gouged chunks from the freezing earth. Valiant gave an angry trumpet and despite his obvious exhaustion, broke into a gallop in pursuit. "Two things are slowing us down right now." He growled and his breastplate pressed into her side as he leaned forward in the saddle. "I chose the lesser of two evils for you. Be thankful."

Valiant's stride faltered as he slipped and skidded on a stony stretch that bothered Acharon not at all. As Taliah craned her neck around to look over the deathknight's shoulder, Valiant went down on his knees. The brave stallion struggled to his feet and trotted after them, his head bobbing violently as he struggled along on three legs, the fourth unable to support his weight. Taliah felt tears sting her eyes as her heart was torn with anguish "Valiant..!"

"Forget him and see to the boy." Necrucian shrugged his shoulder purposefully and his pauldron struck her cheekbone, making the paladin turn her face away in pain so she could not watch the destrier struggle.

Thomas wailed and squirmed against her in panic and she put her arms around him. It took all of her training and discipline to keep her voice calm. "It's alright, Thomas." She soothed. The sound of her voice and the rocking motion of Acharon's surprisingly smooth stride quieted the wail into hiccups and sniffles. Necrucian's arm crushed about her waist, his mailed fingers digging painfully into the old scar on her belly. She said nothing more, her protestations ending but her anger roiling in the pit of her stomach. She cradled the child to her and listened at Valiant's desperate calls began to fade into the distance.


	14. Chapter 14

Fourteen.

The steady drum of untiring hoofbeats caused the paladin to jerk awake and for a moment, in the, she had not a clue where she was. She squirmed and the iron grip about her only tightened, and for a moment she panicked. "Bloody hell woman, stop your wriggling!" Necrucian's deep, ethereal voice growl was commanding and his voice made her stop. They also made her want to put her fist through his face. She remained silent and looked up at the sky and got a flock of fat snowflakes in the face for her troubles. It was bitterly cold and the sky was overcast and dark, though she judged it to be still early in the morning, sometime between sunrise and mid-day.

"Tala?" Thomas's voice was so tiny within he sling that she almost didn't hear him over the Acharon's drumming hooves. He shivered with cold and she did the only thing she could think of. Unbuttoning the first two thirds of her loose tunic, she manoeuvred the sling inside and buttoned it up again so that only the boy's face peeked out of the top. There would be no stopping and there would be no fires. All she had left was the warmth of her own body. "Can we eat? I's hungry…" his voice was sad rather than petulant and it made her want to sob. She reached around the deathknight, her hand slipping into the left saddlebag and fishing about for a ration bar. Softening a piece with her teeth, she offered it to the boy who set upon it like a starving wolf. By contrast, she had no appetite, but forced herself to eat anyway.

Necrucian looked over his shoulder and was thoroughly dismayed. Far from leaving their pursuers behind, they were now actually gaining, and quickly. Where only the day before they had been two leagues behind, they were now less than a mile, following in a silent, inexorable wedge upon horses that did not tire. Undead though he was, Acharon was not capable of greater speed. They were a day away from Southshore, and the deathknight was beginning to think they would not reach their destination. They would have to make a stand in the ruins of Tarren Mill, but as it grew into a discernable collection of shapes to his right, something was terribly wrong. Taliah had described the town as a burned out shell, but he saw intact buildings with dim lights in the windows. 

"By the Lich's black bones.." The river on the left hemmed them in and dense forest and rock that not even Archaron could negotiate corralled them to the right. There was nowhere else to go but forward. As Tarren Mill became more distinct, the riders behind him began to close, whooping and waving all manner of weapons. Two had bows, their arrows spiking the ground behind the fleet destrier. His grip about the paladin tightened and she tossed her head, the cowl of the cloak flipping back. She cried out in warning as cloaked figures burst from behind high piles of fieldstone beside them. Acharon ignored them, trampling one beneath his hooves with a satisfying thud.

"By all that's Holy…" She saw the furtive shapes moving among the reclaimed buildings of Tarren Mill and her guts turned to water. A three-foot stonewall backed by a hedge lay before them, barely discernable in the inch of white that lay upon the ground until they were almost on it. The destrier gathered himself and sailed over the obstacle, and it was only then the two soldiers saw the six by twelve foot pit directly behind it. Necrucian curse and dropped the reins, throwing Taliah forward as hard as he could as the pit swallowed the deathknight and the destier.

The paladin saw the ground coming up to meet her and curled into as much of a ball as she was able, trying desperately to protect the child. The roll was successful, more or less, the litter of dead leaves and loose dirt cushioning her fall. It still hurt. A lot. As though someone had kicked over a rotten log, the Forsaken seemed to come from everywhere and Taliah rolled gracelessly to her feet. The riders that had harried them arrived, only adding to the chaos. The paladin threw back her cloak with a shrug of her shoulder and drew Peacemaker as the Forsaken closed in around her.

He smiled with yellowed teeth and he stepped from the picket of weapons hemming her in. The woman in the center glowered at him balefully as though without fear, but he could smell it on her. "Well.. what do we have here.." he drawled softly as he stood just outside of her reach. His head, concealed by the deep hood of his cloak, tilted slightly as though in curiosity. The woman's tunic was open a third of the way down her chest and a blanket fashioned into some sort of sling protruded from within, reaching over her right shoulder and pulling up the tunic on the left side were it crossed under her arm. The man once known as Cyris Kormak had not a clue what it contained until the woman threw back her cloak and he saw the boy's face. His chuckle was low and dark as he looked back at the woman. "What is a pretty little thing like you doing in a place like this?"

"We are on a mission from the Argent Dawn. You will let us pass or you will answer for it." She stood as tall as her five and a half foot stature and deep bruising from the fall would allow. It took every ounce of strength she had left to call on the Light. She felt it answer and fill her with warmth, but Taliah held it in tight control. She could feel Thomas trembling against her and her eyes swept the scene around her. Two dozen cloaked Forsaken milled around like hungry jackals. Behind her, she heard Acharon's snorts and ethereal shrills of anger, but she did not hear Necrucian.

"You are on our land, human." He said the last word as though it were something foul on his tongue "And as such, we demand a payment for your trespass." Kormak's bony hands slipped into his cloak and Taliah brought Peacemaker up into an aggressive ready position in reply.

"There is coin in the destrier's right saddle bag." She replied and around her the Forsaken laughed and milled restlessly around her. "Take it and let us be on our way."

"You're hardly in a position to be giving orders, sweetling." Kormak tsked her. "Your coin doesn't interest us much…" One bony hand, the flesh scrapped from the knuckles to reveal bone and tendons, slid from his cloak and a finger pointed to the shivering lump in her tunic. "But that does. Give us the pup, and you can be on your way…"

Taliah saw the sickly yellow grin from beneath the undead's cowl and she shifted her weight to the balls of her feet. "You can have the boy when you pry him from my cold, dead arms." The Forsaken that addressed her made a sound of mocking dismay.

"Oh sweetling, you tempt me so." The hand slid back into Kormak's cloak "But you're much too valuable to just fill full of arrows." He looked her up and down in a way that made the woman's skin crawl and her eyes turned from threatening to angry. The living were so amusing sometimes. "There are more than a few who would pay a tidy fortune for you."

"I though you had no use for coin." She walked a counter-circle as the one who spoke moved around her. From the corner of her eye, she caught movement by the pit and she hazarded half a glance. Four Forsaken were hauling the limp deathknight from the hole in the ground while a half dozen more threw ropes over Acharon's head. The destrier snarled and thrashed in indignation as he was dragged from the fissure by a team of undead horses.

"No, sweetling…" Kormak drawled "I merely said we didn't want –your- coin." When the woman's eyes shifted just slightly to the happenings in the trap, he dove at her like a striking snake. His twin daggers cleared the sheaths that rode low on his thin hips, one slashing at her sword-arm, the other at her thigh. The woman twisted away in a swirl of cloak that parted at the touch of his blade as though it were silk. She turned and bared her teeth at him as white fire suddenly ignited from her eyes and along her blade. The heatless flame slithered up her arms and over her until she glowed like a beacon. "Paladin.." his lips twisted in disgust and he spat the word like an invective.

As the undead's cloak pushed back over his shoulders to free up his arms, his greyish flesh contrasted with the fine leather armour he wore. It was plain and its black and forest green finish was made for camouflage. The brass buckles and fittings bore a grainy texture so as not to glint in the light. Taliah refused to be put on the defensive as she fortified her aching body with the Light. She and her opponent were nearly the same height, though the Forsaken was an inch taller and a few stone heavier. If she let him in close, she would be hard-pressed to keep him from sticking her with his blades and she could smell the rank poison upon them. She had learned to rely on fleet feet and agility, but the boy bundled to her torso beneath her tunic was going to make for an unwelcome burden.

The paladin's flaming sword swept upwards with a deceptively powerful flick that would have opened his belly had Kormak not caught the blade in the quillon of his dagger. Her choice of weapon interested him on a professional level, as most of the self-righteous prigs tended to favour a stout warhammer. He moved to parried the next strike, a sweeping slash at his belly, figuring to play with the woman a bit like a cat with a mouse, but her attack was only a feint. Mid-swing, her left hand shot up to take the weapon in a two-handed grip and she thrust forward, forcing him to twist away. The blade burned like cold fire as it parted the leather and scored a shallow line across the dead flesh of his upper back. Around them, the circle of Forsaken hooted and cheered him on. The two twisted and moved in an intimate, deadly dance of steel and mithril and his dagger cut across her shoulder blades when she skidded on the slick, muddy ground. The shield of Light that protected her shimmered and smoked off in a golden mist and would not save her if he managed to get inside her circle of control again. The woman was tired and pale but she refused to go on the defensive when he pressed her hard from the left.

Taliah dug in her heels and blocked a slash to her face with the ornate, winged crossguard of her sword, but had to throw her head back to avoid the tip of the Forsaken's weapon. The blade was coated in something black and foul and the stink of it made her eyes water. Thomas squirmed in terror against her, unbalancing the paladin and Kormak came at her again. He feinted and crouched, spinning on his left foot while striking with his right and swept the woman's legs from under her. She landed on her back with a grunt and the impact dislodged the boy from the sling, spilling him onto the snowy, muddy ground. He looked up at the gathered figures. His eyes grew impossibly wide and the shriek that clawed from his dry throat was beyond ear-splitting. Taliah threw her legs upwards in a sharp arc, using the momentum to get back to her feet as one of the Forsaken ringing them darted in to seize the boy. With an animal snarl, Taliah struck in a sweeping curve and Peacemaker cut through the undead female's chest as though slicing through a loaf of bread. Kormak saw his chance, deft fingers slipping into his cloak to produce a slim, four-inch blade and with a flick of his wrist, sent the flechette at the paladin as she spun to meet him once more.

Something bit into the meat of her right thigh, but it was little more than a sting and she ignored it as she reached down and scooped up the screaming child. She held him in her left arm, her sword in the right as Thomas buried his face into her neck and wailed. The Forsaken that hounded her backed off with a smirk and she spared a glance down at her leg as something warm and wet slid down her knee and shin. In the pale light of what remained of the day, Taliah saw the tiny dagger protruding from her flesh and the blood that leaked into her boot in a slow trail down her leg. Kormak kept circling and she was forced to keep moving so as not to let him get behind her. As the poison quickly spread, she could feel her blood burning in her veins.

"Just put the sword down, paladin. There's no reason to make this any more traumatic or bloody than it really needs to be." His voice was a mocking and admonishing all at once and Karmak grinned and the woman shook her head as though to clear it. The poison was one of his favourites – quick acting and potent. Only the tip of the flechette had been dipped in it and already she was suffering from the effect. He circled her almost casually, confidant that she would not attack now that the boy was completely exposed. "Lay down your arms and I assure you we will not hurt the boy." She did not reply, only glaring at him with intense, grey eyes that were slowly becoming less focused. The paladin staggered, fought to keep her feet and failed, falling to a knee as Peacemaker slipped from her hand.

"I'm …sorry.. Thomas.." it was hard to focus and the edges of her vision was growing dark. The adrenalin-fuelled hammering of her heart began to slow, the pounding of blood in her ears easing. Taliah didn't even realize she was laying on the ground until she tasted dead leaves and mud. Kormak stood over her, naked steel in his hands as the boy cried.

"Tala! Don't go 'way!" he begged through tears, hiccups and sobs. "Pease Tala! Don't go 'way!" She tried to draw on the Light, tried to rally, but the presence of the Light had gone quiet and still in her mind. The paladin gave a soft, shuddering breath as she grew still, and the last thing she heard was Thomas' shrill scream as Kormak plucked him off the ground.

Fifteen.

She felt drained and numb, her thoughts an incoherent jumble. For a long moment she could barely conjure an articulate thought until the high tea-kettle shriek of a child finally pierced though the veil clouding her consciousness. Opening her eyes, Taliah thought for a moment that she was blind and it took her a pair of heartbeats of suppressed panic to realize that she was tightly blindfolded. Sick and weakened by the poison, the paladin lay still for a few more moments as she forcibly calmed herself. Reaching out with her other senses, she took stock of her situation. She lay on a mound of something crisp and prickly and the paladin inhaled. The smell of old, stale straw slowly registered. Taliah's shoulders ached and her hands and fingers were numb. They were bound tightly behind her back with hemp rope and she began to wiggle her fingers to get the circulation flowing again. Silently, the paladin steeled herself and rolled to her knees.

Despite the blindfold the darkened world around her spun wildly and she lost all sense of up and down. Her stomach heaved and empty as it was, she wretched only bile onto the floor before falling on her side again.

"How are you feeling this fine morning, sweetling?" she knew the voice and her head turned heavily in its direction. Her lips pulled back from her teeth in a show of defiance "Ah, she remembers my voice, even after two days of sleep."

"Where are the boy and the deathknight." Her voice was hoarse and the paladin's throat burned from the bile but still she spoke as though the Forsaken, and not she, were the prisoner. Her fighting spirit amused him and Kormak grinned.

"The boy is alive, and no longer your concern, paladin." He drawled and leaned against the wall. "Necrucian seems to be enjoying himself among those who understand his condition." The paladin's eyes narrowed and the undead rogue grinned "If I were you, I'd be more concerned with the fate that awaited me than some wayward deathknight and a puling brat that isn't even yours." Kormak's grin disappeared and his bloodless lips sneered in disgust "Paladins.. you're all alike. Self righteous purveyors of what they think is truth. So easily trapped by their own honour and burning need to help the innocent." he mocked, his words turning into the low, dark laugh of a predator.

"You.." The metaphorical light came on and her voice dipped into a growl "You destroyed the steading… murdered the innocent…"

Kormak grinned, looking please with himself "Well, at least I know you're not entirely stupid, sweetling. We've been tracking you and the deathknight since you crossed the Thondroril. You keep strange company for a paladin." He gestured absently "Really, the steading was just for fun. I didn't think you'd actually investigate… though now that I know what you are, I'll just say it was part of my brilliant plan to lure you into this cunning trap." The paladin rolled to her knees and staggered to her feet as the sound of a child's muffled shriek made the paladin jerk. Her shoulders flared in white-hot agony as she flexed her arms, straining at the rope that bound her. 

"If the boy is harmed, I will end you, and everyone else in this shit hole." Her voice was calm and menacing, though inside she was in a near panic over what may or may not be happening to Thomas. Fury roiled inside her like boiling tar, thick and dark and cloying. It was all the paladin could do not to just futilely charge the undead that goaded her. She called on the Light, but it came as a strangled trickle instead of a torrent.

"Yes, and I see how you're in a position to carry that out, girl. I must admit though, for a paladin, your vocabulary is refreshingly profane." His voice was closer but she had not heard him approach and the punch to the gut came as a complete surprise. Taliah doubled over and staggered from the force of the blow as bile burned up her throat once more. Stubbornly she kept her feet, swaying drunkenly as she gasped for air. "Ah, such spirit." Kormak sighed almost happily "Putress will _love_ you." As the paladin's head turned towards the sound of his voice, Kormak cocked his fist back and let fly. It connected with Taliah's jaw and the woman dropped like a stone.

Necrucian's head ached fiercely but not nearly as badly as the rest of him. The deathknight had regained consciousness and found himself hanging like a side of beef in a damp, cold basement. The short chain of the iron shackles about his wrists was slung over a rusty meathook that kept his feet dangling a good hands-breadth from the floor. He had no concept of the passage of time, but he was sure at least a few days had passed. Things could have been worse, he supposed. The last thing he remembered was throwing Taliah and the boy free as he and Acharon had been swallowed by the pit, and the deathcharger falling awkwardly and landing on him. Had it not been for the paladin's earlier blood sacrifice still allowing him to heal, Necrucian doubted he would have survived. She had saved his life twice now, and he still wasn't sure if she was alive. He was certain Thomas was still among the living, but considering the amount of intermittent screaming he was hearing, all of Hillsbrad probably knew he was still alive. The very real possibility that the boy was being tortured caused an upswell of deep, bitter anger.

The tread of boots upon creaky stairs filled the small basement. Built of stone and mortar, it had probably once served as a storage cellar in the winter months, but now it served as something much more sinister. The dark, dried splashes on the walls and floor left little doubt of what happened down here.

"You'll be relieved to know that all of those sealed missives you were entrusted with are at this very moment on their way to the proper hands." Kormak's smug, rotting face was barely visible in the darkness, even to the deathknight.

"You disgust me." Necrucian stated flatly and closed his eyes. He was tired of the frequent visits from the irritating Forsaken male. Even more tired of the Forsaken propaganda that seemed to slither into every other sentence the obnoxious bastard drawled.

"That's no way to speak to a brother-in-arms, Necrucian." The undead tsked. "I'm not your enemy. We were both once minions of the Lich King, but now we are freed… free to exact the retribution we deserve from those who failed and betrayed us." Kormak's words became hard and just a bit bitter. "The living.. the humans.. they will never accept you… but the Forsaken would embrace you like a brother. We are one and the same."

"I am nothing like you." Necrucian spat back, his lip curled in disgust. "I don't kill civilians… not anymore."

Kormak shrugged as though they were talking about vermin "Lordaeron is ours and they are trespassing. Do we not deserve a place to call our own after all we have suffered?"

"No." was all the deathknight replied. "Where are the paladin and the boy that were with me." He demanded the same thing every day, and Kormak sighed as though speaking to a child.

"I'd love to tell you the little squealing rat is dead, but it would be hard to explain all that damn screaming." The deathknight glowered from beneath his brows at the undead who took on an expression of exasperation "As for the paladin.." he shrugged again "Her injuries were too great. She died last night."

The deathknight blinked in shocked silence and the undead rogue patted him on the shoulder as he circled the suspended man leisurely. "It was awful, really. All that blood, all that screaming. Such a waste. She was somewhat pleasant to look at, for a human."

For half a second, Necrucian almost believed him until Kormak laughed. "Your care for the paladin and the boy is interesting, deathknight. Surely you don't believe there's any kind of redemption waiting for you."

"If any harm comes to her, or the boy, I will…"

"You'll what?" Kormak cut him off "Do you think she cares what happens to you? She hasn't once mentioned you, only goes on and on about that shrieking little piglet." The Forsaken stepped back and looked the deathknight up and down "You care for the girl…"

"No." the deathknight stated flatly "She saved my life. I owe her a debt, nothing more."

"Your debt is paid. Had you not thrown her clear, she and the boy would have been trampled and crushed by your destrier. And as for your fate, worry not. You won't hang in this cozy cellar much longer." Kormak snorted a laugh and walked away "You'll leave for our fine capital tomorrow evening."

"And the others?" Necrucian didn't like the dead man's tone.

"Oh, they'll be going with you." Kormak sneered as he walked up the wooden stair "The Dark Lady is eager to hear how you were freed from the Lich King's thrall, and the Apothecary Society is eager for their new test subjects."


	15. Chapter 15

Fifteen.

She felt drained and numb, her thoughts an incoherent jumble. For a long moment she could barely conjure an articulate thought until the high tea-kettle shriek of a child finally pierced though the veil clouding her consciousness. Opening her eyes, Taliah thought for a moment that she was blind and it took her a pair of heartbeats of suppressed panic to realize that she was tightly blindfolded. Sick and weakened by the poison, the paladin lay still for a few more moments as she forcibly calmed herself. Reaching out with her other senses, she took stock of her situation. She lay on a mound of something crisp and prickly and the paladin inhaled. The smell of old, stale straw slowly registered. Taliah's shoulders ached and her hands and fingers were numb. They were bound tightly behind her back with hemp rope and she began to wiggle her fingers to get the circulation flowing again. Silently, the paladin steeled herself and rolled to her knees.

Despite the blindfold the darkened world around her spun wildly and she lost all sense of up and down. Her stomach heaved and empty as it was, she wretched only bile onto the floor before falling on her side again.

"How are you feeling this fine morning, sweetling?" she knew the voice and her head turned heavily in its direction. Her lips pulled back from her teeth in a show of defiance "Ah, she remembers my voice, even after two days of sleep."

"Where are the boy and the deathknight." Her voice was hoarse and the paladin's throat burned from the bile but still she spoke as though the Forsaken, and not she, were the prisoner. Her fighting spirit amused him and Kormak grinned.

"The boy is alive, and no longer your concern, paladin." He drawled and leaned against the wall. "Necrucian seems to be enjoying himself among those who understand his condition." The paladin's eyes narrowed and the undead rogue grinned "If I were you, I'd be more concerned with the fate that awaited me than some wayward deathknight and a puling brat that isn't even yours." Kormak's grin disappeared and his bloodless lips sneered in disgust "Paladins.. you're all alike. Self righteous purveyors of what they think is truth. So easily trapped by their own honour and burning need to help the innocent." he mocked, his words turning into the low, dark laugh of a predator.

"You.." The metaphorical light came on and her voice dipped into a growl "You destroyed the steading… murdered the innocent…"

Kormak grinned, looking please with himself "Well, at least I know you're not entirely stupid, sweetling. We've been tracking you and the deathknight since you crossed the Thondroril. You keep strange company for a paladin." He gestured absently "Really, the steading was just for fun. I didn't think you'd actually investigate… though now that I know what you are, I'll just say it was part of my brilliant plan to lure you into this cunning trap." The paladin rolled to her knees and staggered to her feet as the sound of a child's muffled shriek made the paladin jerk. Her shoulders flared in white-hot agony as she flexed her arms, straining at the rope that bound her. 

"If the boy is harmed, I will end you, and everyone else in this shit hole." Her voice was calm and menacing, though inside she was in a near panic over what may or may not be happening to Thomas. Fury roiled inside her like boiling tar, thick and dark and cloying. It was all the paladin could do not to just futilely charge the undead that goaded her. She called on the Light, but it came as a strangled trickle instead of a torrent.

"Yes, and I see how you're in a position to carry that out, girl. I must admit though, for a paladin, your vocabulary is refreshingly profane." His voice was closer but she had not heard him approach and the punch to the gut came as a complete surprise. Taliah doubled over and staggered from the force of the blow as bile burned up her throat once more. Stubbornly she kept her feet, swaying drunkenly as she gasped for air. "Ah, such spirit." Kormak sighed almost happily "Putress will _love_ you." As the paladin's head turned towards the sound of his voice, Kormak cocked his fist back and let fly. It connected with Taliah's jaw and the woman dropped like a stone.

Necrucian's head ached fiercely but not nearly as badly as the rest of him. The deathknight had regained consciousness and found himself hanging like a side of beef in a damp, cold basement. The short chain of the iron shackles about his wrists was slung over a rusty meathook that kept his feet dangling a good hands-breadth from the floor. He had no concept of the passage of time, but he was sure at least a few days had passed. Things could have been worse, he supposed. The last thing he remembered was throwing Taliah and the boy free as he and Acharon had been swallowed by the pit, and the deathcharger falling awkwardly and landing on him. Had it not been for the paladin's earlier blood sacrifice still allowing him to heal, Necrucian doubted he would have survived. She had saved his life twice now, and he still wasn't sure if she was alive. He was certain Thomas was still among the living, but considering the amount of intermittent screaming he was hearing, all of Hillsbrad probably knew he was still alive. The very real possibility that the boy was being tortured caused an upswell of deep, bitter anger.

The tread of boots upon creaky stairs filled the small basement. Built of stone and mortar, it had probably once served as a storage cellar in the winter months, but now it served as something much more sinister. The dark, dried splashes on the walls and floor left little doubt of what happened down here.

"You'll be relieved to know that all of those sealed missives you were entrusted with are at this very moment on their way to the proper hands." Kormak's smug, rotting face was barely visible in the darkness, even to the deathknight.

"You disgust me." Necrucian stated flatly and closed his eyes. He was tired of the frequent visits from the irritating Forsaken male. Even more tired of the Forsaken propaganda that seemed to slither into every other sentence the obnoxious bastard drawled.

"That's no way to speak to a brother-in-arms, Necrucian." The undead tsked. "I'm not your enemy. We were both once minions of the Lich King, but now we are freed… free to exact the retribution we deserve from those who failed and betrayed us." Kormak's words became hard and just a bit bitter. "The living.. the humans.. they will never accept you… but the Forsaken would embrace you like a brother. We are one and the same."

"I am nothing like you." Necrucian spat back, his lip curled in disgust. "I don't kill civilians… not anymore."

Kormak shrugged as though they were talking about vermin "Lordaeron is ours and they are trespassing. Do we not deserve a place to call our own after all we have suffered?"

"No." was all the deathknight replied. "Where are the paladin and the boy that were with me." He demanded the same thing every day, and Kormak sighed as though speaking to a child.

"I'd love to tell you the little squealing rat is dead, but it would be hard to explain all that damn screaming." The deathknight glowered from beneath his brows at the undead who took on an expression of exasperation "As for the paladin.." he shrugged again "Her injuries were too great. She died last night."

The deathknight blinked in shocked silence and the undead rogue patted him on the shoulder as he circled the suspended man leisurely. "It was awful, really. All that blood, all that screaming. Such a waste. She was somewhat pleasant to look at, for a human."

For half a second, Necrucian almost believed him until Kormak laughed. "Your care for the paladin and the boy is interesting, deathknight. Surely you don't believe there's any kind of redemption waiting for you."

"If any harm comes to her, or the boy, I will…"

"You'll what?" Kormak cut him off "Do you think she cares what happens to you? She hasn't once mentioned you, only goes on and on about that shrieking little piglet." The Forsaken stepped back and looked the deathknight up and down "You care for the girl…"

"No." the deathknight stated flatly "She saved my life. I owe her a debt, nothing more."

"Your debt is paid. Had you not thrown her clear, she and the boy would have been trampled and crushed by your destrier. And as for your fate, worry not. You won't hang in this cozy cellar much longer." Kormak snorted a laugh and walked away "You'll leave for our fine capital tomorrow evening."

"And the others?" Necrucian didn't like the dead man's tone.

"Oh, they'll be going with you." Kormak sneered as he walked up the wooden stair "The Dark Lady is eager to hear how you were freed from the Lich King's thrall, and the Apothecary Society is eager for their new test subjects."


	16. Chapter 16

Sixteen.

The young woman lay sprawled and unmoving in the old straw. The deep black and purple of a livid bruise covered one side of her jaw, the colour shockingly bright against her fair skin. Curls, tangled and flecked with straw obscured some of her face, but he still recognized her though he'd not seen the paladin in years. The rope that bound her wrists was crusted with blood where is had chafed and bitten into her flesh. She had not stirred, despite the thunderous chaos that raged upstairs and outside the old inn she was an unwilling guest of.

The old paladin pulled off the blindfold and rolled the woman onto her side "Taliah!" He shook her shoulder as a soldier in mail and boiled leather used a dirk to cut the woman's restraints. "Taliah, it's Raleigh."

The woman's eyes fluttered open, squinting in the lamplight that seemed too terribly bright to someone who'd spent the better part of two days in darkness. "Raleigh?" her voice was a dry croak and the old man smiled as he and another soldier hauled the woman to her feet while two more covered the entrance to the cellar.

"Come on girl, we've long worn out our welcome in this accursed place." Raleigh and the three men with him escorted Taliah to the stairs as she found her feet.

"The boy.." She stopped and refused to move "Did you find a –"

"We found him, he's safe." Raleigh took her by the arm and hauled her after him "We need to go. Now!"

"Necrucian…" she resisted, setting her heels stubbornly "Did you find a deathknight?" All three men were now hustling her along and she began to struggle angrily "I won't leave him in this shit hole." The cold night air hit her in the face and hurt her lungs as the chill assaulted her lightly clothed form. Around them, steel rang on steel and one of the houses had been set alight. Men in armour fought in the streets against the Forsaken but even above the din of battle, she could hear Thomas crying.

"Deathknight?" Raleigh looked at her in appalled shock "Aye, and left the bastard hanging in the hole we found him in." With strength she didn't know she possessed, Taliah shrugged the men off.

"Show me." She commanded, her eyes blazing white in fury "Take me to him. Now." Raleigh just looked at her in disbelief and the soldiers with him began to protest. "NOW." The paladin bellowed.

Necrucian looked over at the stairs as someone came pelting down in a flail of arms and legs, followed by four armoured men and for a moment the deathknight thought the worst. The humans that had found him had very nearly done him in, but had decided to a man to leave him instead to the tender mercies of the Forsaken. When he realized the one flailing her way down the stairs was Taliah, he felt a surge of something he hadn't experienced in more years than he cared to recall. It was _hope_.

"You look like hell, Dawnstar." He remarked as she helped the four men with her get the deathknight down from the hook on the ceiling. Necrucian leaned heavily against her as his feet hit the floor, and the paladin supported him as best she could. The others gave no indication they were willing to lend further aid and the deathknight ignored them.

"And you're just all sorts of pretty yourself." She replied dryly as they took the rickety stairs two at a time. Outside the small home he'd been held prisoner, torches and the glint of steel flashed in the darkness. Most of the soldiers were mounted and fending off the dozen or so Forsaken that defended the town. An ethereal, equine bugle split the night and Necrucian smiled as men and Forsaken parted like wheat before a galloping undead destrier. The beast slid to a halt before its master and butted him in the chest with its heavy head.

"I told them to destroy that vile thing." Raleigh growled "It broke down a reinforce stall door when we took the barn and nearly trampled me."

Necrucian ignored him and swung onto the destrier's bare back as a soldier leading a train of four coursers arrived. Raleigh and the others vaulted into the saddle, and he offered his hand to Taliah as Necrucian did the same. The paladin took the deathknight's hand without thinking and swung up behind him. Raleigh's brows came together in a look of profound distaste and he turned away, his voice ringing out into the night "Ride, boys. We got what we came for!"

Outnumbered, the Forsaken did not pursue and the twenty riders thundered over the snow in a headlong flight south. Weak from dehydration, Taliah clung to the deathknight's hoary armour and held on like a tick, shivering with cold. Southshore lay three leagues from Tarren Mill, and the riders pushed on through the night. No one spoke, the only noises coming from the snorting and blowing coursers as they moved in a loose assembly over the flatlands. Raleigh's mount pulled in along side Acharon and he pulled off his cloak, offering it silently to the shaking woman and she accepted gratefully.

Southshore was still asleep when the riders led their steaming coursers into the courtyard of the garrison and dismounted. Winter had come early and patches of snow glistened in the early morning light. The atmosphere should have been celebratory – other than a few wounds, none of them serious, no one had been killed. Instead, the armoured men were quiet, tense and restless, their sidelong glances at the deathknight who kept his distance less than friendly. For his part, Necrucian remained silent, his attention on Acharon who seemed genuine glad to see his master.

Her feet had no sooner hit the ground than Raleigh took Taliah firmly by the arm and marched her into the barracks. She began to badger him about Thomas, but the old paladin said nothing. As he escorted her to the infirmary, the surgeon and his assistant were already busy at one of the beds, their whispered words and actions bordering on frantic. Taliah felt a surge of sick panic and shrugged Raleigh off. She tripped on numbed feet and scuttled forward on her hands and knees for a few strides before using an iron bedpost to pull herself up again.

The physician turned and held up his hands as his assistant pulled a sheet over the tiny, still form on the bed. "I'm sorry, miss. There's not can be done for him. The cold was too much for one so small."

"No!" the scream of denial was hoarse and broken and she tried to push her way past him as Raleigh caught her from behind. When Southshore had come into view, one of the riders had burst from formation and galloped his already tired mount ahead. At the time Taliah, tired as she was, had watched the man look down into his cloak-obscured arm and his face had twisted into a look of dread. Now the ashen look of dread on the man's face made sense.

"Talaih, the boy is gone!" the older paladin staggered back as the woman put an elbow to his ribs. Raleigh grunted and released her and Talaih bulled her way past the surgeon. She ripped back the sheet and looked at the still, pale form that lay as though sleeping. Thomas' blue eyes were closed, his expression peaceful though his skin was grey-blue and cold to the touch. The boy was bare from the waste up, the soft skin of his arms, chest and belly scarred by numerous burns as though from a hot wax or candle flame. She picked him up with trembling hands and felt hot tears flow down her cheeks in a torrent.

Taliah held the boy to her, cradling him as she threw her head back in a howl of fury and despair so profound it made Raleigh and the surgeon back away. Whatever had dampened her atunement to the Light seemed to have passed and it rushed now to her call, coming to her in a wrathful swirl of white flame as she fell to her knees.

With monumental effort, the paladin let go of her rage and despair, drawing instead on her instinct to protect the boy she had come to love as her own. The white blaze that surrounded her subsided instead into an intense glow as her eyes closed and she saw the boy through the Light. He wasn't breathing and he had no discernable pulse. The paladin nurtured the Light with calm instead of rage for the first time in longer than she wanted to remember. Taliah focused her entire being into channelling the Light, the very stuff of life, into the boy. The paladin felt like a vessel that had been empty, only to be filled with a surge of vast power, the scope of which was beyond her ability to fathom.

The surgeon, a kindly man of middle years with salt-and-pepper hair shielded his eyes from the intense glow that encompassed the woman and the child she mourned and a strange quiet spread over the ward. The wounded had begun to filter in, though their progression into the large room halted as they all watched the paladin kneeling on the floor.

As suddenly as it appeared, the glow swirled away in a golden mist. The woman looked down at the boy in her arms and the tiny body arched, his blue eyes wide as he gasped in a breath. Thomas began to cry and she blinked down at him as the overwhelming sensation of the Light retreated. The ear-splitting racket coming from something so small and fragile was the most beautiful sound the paladin had ever heard and she held the boy close with a profound sense of relief and awe. He clung to her, his tiny hands gripping her worn, filthy tunic so tightly the little knuckles were white.

Other than the child's crying, the ward was utterly silent and Taliah remembered to breathe. "By the Light… Taliah…" Raleigh put a hand to her shoulder and seemed unsure of what to say.

"How did you find us, Raleigh?" she didn't turn to look at the man as she stroked Thomas' tangled hair. The boy pressed his face against her and it was only with great reluctance that she suffered the medical staff to take him from her. "How did you know we were there?"

The paladin scratched at the grey beard that hugged his jaw as though trying to collect his thoughts "The Light led me to you. It spoke to me in a dream two nights ago and it took me a while to convince Captain Maltus to give me enough men." He kept staring after the child as they got him into a bed to rest. "As it was, we had to wait until the raiding party left before we could start the assault."

"Thank you, old friend." She reached to her shoulder and squeezed his weathered hand. "You arrived none too soon. I owe you my life twice over now."

Taliah got off her knees just enough to plant her rear on the bed. The occupants of the ward, healers, medical staff and the walking wounded, had at least stopped staring at her, now giving her furtive glances instead. She was too tired to bone weary with exhaustion to care and lay back in the bed and closed her eyes, drifting to sleep to the sound of whispers all about her.


	17. Chapter 17

Seventeen.

At some point during her blissfully dreamless lack of consciousness, Thomas had slipped from his bed and into hers and an orderly had made the mistake of trying to remove the boy from the crook of her arm. Thomas had bitten him for his troubles and the man yelped. The paladin's eyes snapped open. They focused on the unfortunate orderly and grabbed the man by the throat as her right hand balled into a fist and cocked back near her ear.

The poor young man, barely old enough to grow a bad moustache, put up his hands and stammered apologies and Taliah thankfully remembered where she was before she let fly. With a muttered apology of her own, she released him and rubbed her eyes as Thomas crawled into the lap and put his arms around her. "Ah love, I'm sorry." She soothed. There was no telling what the boy had endured and the small burns, now dressed with salve and bandages, did much to explain all the screaming she'd heard. Her calloused fingers stroked through his curls, clean and shining from a good washing, and the boy sniffled as he cuddled against her as though afraid.

"I thought you wen 'way"." Big blue eyes looked up at her and Thomas' lower lip quivered. "Da monsters hurt me." He pointed to one of the dozen bandages that covered the burns. Something dark and terrible roiled in the pit of her guts. Had she and the thing called Kormak been in the same room, she would have ripped out his throat with her teeth. "I was ascared."

"Ah love, you're safe now. There are walls and soldiers to protect you, hot food and nice warm beds to sleep in and hearths to keep you warm. No more sleeping outside in the cold." Taliah closed her eyes and sighed. "There's no need to be afraid anymore."

"I see da monsters when I sleeps." There were indeed dark circles under the boy's bright eyes and the paladin used her thumb to wipe his tears away. "I wanna fight dem when I get big."

"Hopefully, when you're big and strong, there will be no more monsters to fight and you can do something fun instead." Taliah replied gently. She knew it was a lie – there were always monsters to fight. The familiar heavy tread of boots heralded the arrival of the deathknight, as did the sudden silence in the ward. Taliah found she was actually pleased to see him. Necrucian, however, looked less than happy.

"The missives are gone." He sat in the empty bed next to her with a grate of plate armoured. "Kormak said they'd would be received by 'the proper hands', though I'm quite certain his idea of 'proper hands' and mine are mutually exclusive." The deathknight's hands curled into fists and his gauntlets creaked in protest. "Mograin bade me commit his dispatches to memory and I have, but as to what Fordring wrote, that I do not know."

Taliah gave a resigned sigh and rolled her eyes "Oh, I can probably guess. So we have one less thing to haul around, it doesn't change the mission. We go to Stormwind, make everyone p-… wet their breaches in either excitement or fear with the news, and then we go to Northrend." The paladin pulled her face away as Thomas looked up at her and tried to touch the bruise on her jaw.

"Da monsters hurt you too…" the boy said sadly and she kissed his brow as Necrucian continued.

"Without the missives to show, why would they let me past the gates? I've nothing to prove my words are true, except for you." His tone was not hopeful and Taliah found it a little insulting.

"Trust me, Necrucian." The paladin's lips twisted in a distasteful way "They'll let us in, I - "

"Excuse me…" the orderly who had inadvertently awakened her swallowed audibly as he addressed the deathknight and by the look on the young man's face, Taliah had the feeling he'd drawn the short straw. "You'll have to leave the ward, the Lady needs to rest."

"Bugger your rest, boy." Taliah had placed her hands over Thomas's ears before speaking, and Necrucian now knew why. The boy sat in her lap with an expression of confusion as he looking up at the three adults – the frightened, the angry and the mildly amused. "If you want Necrucian to leave because the men in the ward find him terrifying, then have the balls to say it." She spoke as though a drill sergeant reprimanding an errant trainee. "And if you ever interrupt me again, I'll put my foot so far up your arse you'll have to yawn to buckle my boot. Now. Be. Gone." The poor orderly scuttled back with a bow and hurried off. Taliah watched him go and Necrucian's lips pursed with the effort of not chuckling. The paladin finally took her hands from the boy's ears and smoothed his hair. "The first chance in over a year that I get to sleep in a bed with a roof over my head, in a building that wasn't abandoned, burned out or filled with vermin, and I can find no peace."

"I've hear of what you did for the b-" Necrucian stopped in mid-sentence as Taliah gave him a warning look. "I did not know such miracles were possible." The boy busied himself with a lose string in the hem of the paladin's tunic.

Taliah slipped her feet into her boots "It is possible.. on rare occasions." She shivered as she remembered the rush of immense power that had used her as a conduit. Taliah looked up at the deathknight as they made their way out of the ward. Soldiers in the hall made way for them, and while they saluted her with sincerity, they had nothing but cold glances for the former Scourge knight. "If I could do the same for you, know that I would." The deathknight merely nodded.

"I know, and I thank you."


	18. Chapter 18

Eighteen.

The wool clothing was a bit big on her, but it was warm, dry and most importantly, it was clean. She thanked the quartermaster who smiled and ruffled Thomas' hair. He was a burly man with arms as big around as her thigh and a thick red beard that went near to his belly, though he had no hair on his head. "Anything for a hero, m'lady."

"Hero?" Taliah's expression went from appreciative to dark instantly. Nothing in the quartermaster's stores would fit the boy, so he had offered her another cloak to wrap him in.

"Aye." The man seemed confused by her aversion to the word. "I heard what did for the boy. A miracle it was!"

"The men who rescued us from that hellhole are the heroes, sir." She replied as she bundled the boy up. "I'll thank you kindly not to refer to me as such again."

"Uh… as you wish, m'lady." The man said, looking more than a little confused by her bluntness. , the quartermaster did not even look at Necrucian as though the deathknight was a six and a half foot invisible man in black plate, seeming to hope that if he didn't acknowledge him, Necrucian would just go away. She had already paid their respects to the Ervig Maltus, garrison commander, thanked him for his aid and asked him to send her thanks to the troops who had risked their lives. Taliah was overjoyed when Captain Maltus had returned Peacemaker to her, offering it with the respect the fine blade commanded, while he simply gestured to Necrucian's Redemption that stood on-end in a far corner. The paladin had been gracious enough, but the deathknight could tell something was grating her last nerve.

"I need to get out of here." Her words were a grated whisper as she returned the various salutes she got while crossing the formation grounds. "Too many walls, too many people inside them."

"You're not sleeping under some tree tonight, not with the boy." The deathknight's tone made it obvious he thought she was being a git and Taliah waved at him irritably.

"We can stay at the inn tonight." She spied Acharon standing in one corner of the yard, covered in an inch of fresh snow and she pointed at the destrier. "What about him?"

"What about him?"

"We can't just leave him here." Beneath her cloak, Thomas squirmed and poked his face into the cold to look around and she gently pulled the heavy wool garment back over his face.

"Why not?" the deathknight asked "It's not like anyone is going to steal him."

The guards at the portcullis saluted her and gave Necrucian a wary, unwelcoming eye as they stepped out into the quiet street. The shops were closed for the evening, though it was only six bells and outside the gates of the garrison the wind blew in from the sea, bitter salt and biting. Winter always came quickly in Southshore, and once snow dusted the ground, it stayed until spring. "How, exactly, are you going to pay for a room? All our coin is Lich knows where."

"How attached to that dagger are you?" Their boots were muffled in the soft, wet snow and the few people on the street, bundled against the cold, were too busy trying to get out of the weather to care about them.

"Not very. Why?" Necrucian was somewhat taken aback when she boldly plucked the weapon from his belt. The handle was pure obsidian, the quillon and blade made of a blue-green metal she'd never seen before.

"I've got an idea."

Unlike the street, the inn was crowded and noisy, smelling of soldiers, cooked meat and alcohol. No one paid the two cloaked figures much attention as they slipped in the door. Apparently a few of the Tarren Mill raiders had decided to have a belated celebration of their victory and the ale was flowing freely amidst loud and bawdy toasts. Orim Anderson clapped one of the soldiers on the shoulder as he walked by and smiled – it was going to be a good night. His inn was near full and the tavern was bustling. A cloaked figure threaded through the crowd and by its stature, he could tell it was a woman and she looked up at him from beneath the hood. While her face wasn't unpleasant to look at despite the bruise on her jaw, there was nothing truly remarkable about it, or her. She looked cold, as did the other little face that peaked out of her cloak and Anderson smiled as she approached. "How can this humble innkeeper be of service, lass?"

"Do you have any empty rooms?" she smiled, but it didn't quite reach the cold grey eyes he looked into.

"Do you have any coin?" he looked up at the tall, cloaked man that stood behind the young woman like a lurking shadow. The cowl dropped low and he could see nothing of his face.

"Well, point of fact, I don't. But I do have this." She offered the dagger hilt-first as the boy in her arms squirmed out of her cloak and put his arms bout her neck.

Anderson looked at the weapon in the woman's hand. The obsidian in the handle alone was worth more than the room she wanted. He was a fair man and the weapon was unusual enough to be worth something "Aye, I've got one room left young lady, and it's yours. The tavern is crowded. I can have a hot meal sent up for you and the little'un." He reached out and ruffled the boy's hair.

"Aye, thank you." The hood fell back and one of the soldiers haled her with a raised mug. Taliah gave an uncomfortable smile and raised a hand at the man, who elbowed the man next to him and pointed at her. More cups were raised and a cheer went up. "Oh bloody hell.."

"My Lady!" one of the soldiers called. None of them seemed too into their cups yet, so the party must have just started. "Come and help celebrate our victory!"

Anderson gave the woman a questioning look, but when she didn't seem interested in explaining, he merely shrugged "Upstairs, third door on the left. I'll have something sent up straight away."

Taliah inclined her head politely, but as she turned the tall, cloaked man put a heavy, black mailed hand to her shoulder and leaned down. "Give me the boy, I'll see that he gets a meal and some sleep." Taliah stiffened and Necrucian gave her shoulder a squeeze "Go have a drink with the troops."

"But I don't drin-" she didn't get to finished and Necrucian held out his hands. Thomas returned the gesture with only a little hesitation and the deathknight took him from her as though the boy were something fragile that he might accidently squash. Thomas disappeared within the big man's cloak, but not before he waved.

"Tala come too?" the boy asked.

"Aye, but later." The deathknight kept his voice to a whisper and made his way to the stairs, disappearing as he ascended.

"My Lady!" another soldier called "Come and sit and tell us news from the North!" Cheerful agreement accompanied the man and she sighed. Putting on her best fake smile, she sat as they made a space for her.

Thomas slept soundly in the big bed and Necrucian finally took off the cloak, thankful the quartermaster had given the paladin two of them. The room was nice enough and the hearth blazed merrily. The mattress was of good quality, stuffed with fresh straw and from the way Thomas had shovelled the bread and venison stew away, the food seemed fine as well. The celebrating soldiers reminded him of his own brothers-in-arms, the ones who had frozen or starved on the beach in Northrend. Loyal sons of Lordaeron, they had died waiting for their Prince to return and lead them home. The memory was a bitter one.

He had 'brothers' again, but the Knights of the Ebon Blade were together because they had nowhere else to go. They were not friends, merely men working for the common goal of vengeance. No camaraderie, only silent columns of dead men. Necrucian did not like to brood, but it was hard not to remember what you'd lost when you'd lost everything. Instead, he turned his attention to the boy curled up on the bed. The quilt was pulled up to his chin and he slept like the dead, his little thumb stuffed into his mouth. He knew Taliah and the boy had grown close and it was painful to see her dote on the boy she obviously had grown to love. She always seemed happiest when they were together. Necrucian felt regret that he would be the one to separate them at a time the boy and the paladin seemed to need each other the most.

Necrucian marked the passage of time by how many logs he put on the fire, and after the fourth hour had come and gone, he began to grow concerned. He'd not gotten the impression that the paladin was going to stay in the tavern one second longer than was necessary. Shrugging into the long cloak he pulled up the cowl and after checking the boy one last time, he slipped out the door.

The celebration wasn't over, but it was certainly coming to the tail end of things. Those still lucid enough to be conscious raised cups in toast and elbowed each other in jest. Beneath the cowl, Necrucian blinked as he set eyes on Taliah. She was standing on the heavy wooden table, belting out an incredibly bawdy tavern song about a farmer and a sheep. And she was drunk. Very, very drunk. The deathknight didn't know whether to be amused or shocked, so he settled on something in between. She finished her song and gave a precarious bow as the soldiers cheered and laughed raucously. Necrucian would have been happy enough to just remain unnoticed, but swore under his breath as Taliah squinted at him.

"Oh hi!" she grinned and waved enthusiastically. She hopped off the table, staggering and almost falling on her face before she caught herself. Again the drunken troops cheered as she bowed with an unsteady flourish and weaved her way towards him, cup in hand.

"I thought you said you don't drink." Necrucian raised a brow. His face was still concealed by the cowl, but his voice carried enough that at least one of the soldiers noticed.

"Does communion wine count?" the woman's brow furrowed and she looked into her cup. "I think it's broken. There was stuff in here just a second ago... now it's gone."

"I think you've had enough, Taliah." Necrucian took the empty cup from the paladin and as her lip stuck out in a pout, he marvelled at how much she and the boy looked alike.

"I have?" she slurred as though trying to remember something "But I've only had this many.." Taliah studiously counted off five fingers and while she did so silently, her lips moved. She held up the appropriate number of calloused digits for his inspection and the deathknight couldn't help but chuckle.

"I think I like you better when you drink." He took her gently by the shoulder, steadying the woman. Half a dozen troopers, still sober enough to make an attempt to stand, slid from the table the paladin had been singing on.

"I like you better when I drink too, Nec." The paladin gave him a genuine if drunken grin, flashing straight white teeth as she leaned against him. "You're really tall." The deathknight took note of the men that approached, and none of them looked as though they were going to greet him with the same enthusiasm as the paladin had.

"Take your hand off the Lady, sir." the biggest of them growled. He was of a height with the deathknight and Necrucian pulled back the cowl to reveal glowing blue eyes and his grey face. Most of the men turned pale, but not the ox who had spoken. He did take a step back, though only to draw his sword. He was young, the beginning of a rusty beard hugging his jaw. "Unhand her, Scourge!" At the man's words, the few other people in the tavern took notice and most of them left.

Necrucian looked at the blade wavering in the man's hand and then looked into the soldier's grey-green eyes "You don't want to walk down that road with me, boy." The deahtknight's hollow voice was cold with warning. He was not in the fighting mood. "Continue your celebration. You earned it, but the paladin has had enough." Taliah leaned heavily against him and hiccupped.

"I have?" she asked, blinking up at the deathknight blankly. "What day is it?"

"Aye, you have." Necrucian replied firmly "Party's over."

"You're no fun." The paladin pouted and rubbed her eyes with a yawn. "I can't feel my legs." She wavered and almost fell, but Necrucian caught her under the arms.

"I said" the point of the young ox's sword tapped against the deathknight's cloaked breastplate as it wavered "Take your hands off the lady." Liquid courage had made the boy braver than his peers, who glanced at each other nervously while their hands hovered over the swords at their hips.

"Hey!" Taliah found her feet with obvious and monumental effort. Her lips pursed in drunken irritation as her brows came together and she swatted the sword away with her hand. "Careful where you point that, you'll put someone's eye out!"

"My Lady…" one of the others spoke up, still polite despite his inebriation. "He's Scourge. We should have left him in Tarren Mill with the undead scum."

"No." she replied firmly, her tone making it clear she would brook no insult to the deathknight "He's a freed man and he's my friend." She pointed unsteadily at the soldier who'd maligned Necrucian, her words slurring. "One more word out of you and I'll-"

"Taliah, enough. Go upstairs. Thomas needs you." Necrucian cut her off and the mention of the boy's name seemed to divert her attention. With a final glance at the soldiers, whatever good humour she'd been feeling seemed to evaporate and the paladin walked off slowly, disappearing up the stairs. The deathknight looked back at the drunken men and plucked the sword from the young ox. Anger fuelled him and the Darkness rushed to his call. The air turned frosty in the tavern and the drunken soldiers huddled together as the deathknight's eyes burned blue and bright. With a deft flex of his powerful hands, Necrucian bent the blade in two and handed it back to its owner as the man turned white. The deathknight grinned fiercely and patted the man on the shoulder hard enough to stagger him, and then followed the paladin up the stairs.


	19. Chapter 19

Nineteen.

The normally sweet sound of Thomas' laughter was like an axe to the head and Taliah groaned. The morning sun was streaming through the window and stabbed into her eyes painfully as she drew the pillow over her face. Her tongue was thick and fuzzy, as though it were dressed in a wool sweater, but even the splitting headache was nothing compared to what her guts were doing. She smelled freshly cooked sausage, eggs and toast and the sound of Thomas' open-mouthed chewing was unnaturally loud. The paladin was quite sure she would vomit.

"Necrucian?" she rasped. The deathknight looked over at her from the small chair and table where he was helping the boy cut the greasy sausage. He made a noise to indicate he was listening, though she could have sworn she heard him chuckle. "How did I get here?"

"Under your own power. Mostly." was the bemused reply.

"I'm naked, aren't I…why am I naked?" Taliah was suddenly aware of the feel of the quilt against her skin and her face flushed an amusing crimson. "Don't answer that.."

"Don't worry, paladin. You didn't start to disrobe until you got into bed." Necrucian chuckled "Other than singing a few off-colour songs, you didn't do anything to dishonour yourself." She peeked at him from beneath the pillow, the expression of pure misery on her fair face "Though I'm sure the garrison will be abuzz with tales of you dancing on the table. Would you like some runny eggs and greasy sausage?" The deathknight grinned as the paladin turned green and clamped the pillow over her face again.

"How drunk was I? I don't remember anything after the second toast." Slowly, the young woman sat up, holding the quilt to her body for propriety's sake and held up a hand to ward off the sunlight.

"I believe the word you're looking for isn't appropriately referred to in front of the boy, but I suppose 'three sheets to the wind' will suffice." Again the paladin groaned and Necrucian looked away as she gathered her clothing from the floor and began to dress. Taliah slouched on the bedside opposite them, her back to the boy and the deathknight, her face in her hands as she fought the urge to wretch. Taking pity on the poor woman, Necrucian poured her a cup of water, which she drank gratefully. When he offered her a piece of toasted bread, she waved him away as though he'd just offered her a severed head.

Thomas finished breaking his fast and slid from the chair, trotting over to Taliah and raising his arms. She managed a smile and picked him up and the boy looked her up and down in disapproval. "You look bad. You sick, Tala?" he sounded genuinely concerned.

"I'll be alright, love." She sat the boy on her lap so that he faced her and she clapped his hands gently together. "You were good for Necrucian?" Thomas giggled as she tickled him and the sound made her wince.

"Yep! He bringed me breakfast." The boy seemed to consider something for a moment before nodding to himself "I likes him, he's not so scary no more. He's a nice man." Taliah glanced over her shoulder at the deathknight. His face was stoic as he fed the fire, but she knew he'd heard the boy. Turning back to the child, she kissed him on the forehead.

"Aye, he's a good man." She said softly.

The innkeeper was not as friendly when they left, though Taliah was sure it had more to do with Necrucian being undead than her drunken antics the night before. She pulled the hood of the cloak far over her face as she stepped out into the painfully bright sun, which reflected off the snow in an equally excruciating way. The sky was clear and blue and it was bitterly cold. They collected Acharon at the garrison, the undead beast not having moved since the day before, and walked to the east, across the main street and down a meandering road. Necrucian wore the second cloak to avoid frightening the townsfolk and Taliah kept Thomas close in her arms to keep him warm as Acharon walked along behind.

Their travels took them just out of town, past a few small farms as they followed the road into a large stand of sheltering pines. The trees began to thin into a clearing and the little road ended at a quiet cottage in the western corner. A fenced yard around the small weathered barn contained a cow and yearling calf that shared a pile of hay with half a dozen sheep and a bay palfrey. Chickens and ducks scratched and pecked about the swept, frozen yard before the cottage or poked about in the snow-covered garden. The cottage's gabled roof glistened with snow and its single fieldstone and mortar chimney puffed a cheerful column of pale smoke into the air. It was the most peaceful and perfect thing Necrucian had seen in a while.

Before he could ask Taliah where she had led them, the cottage door opened and a woman in warm winter clothing stepped out into the morning sun, a wood-carrier slung over one arm. When the woman turned, she began to raise her hand in greeting, but the basket fell to the ground and her fingertips went to her mouth with shock as Taliah pulled back the hood to reveal herself.

"..Tahlia?" even from fifty paces, Necrucian could see the woman's lashes spike with tears and she took a tentative step forward. Her right hand stretched out, as though reaching out to something that may just disappear. Glancing down at the paladin, he noted with dismay that her face was stoic.

"Aye." Was all Taliah said in reply as the woman closed the distance between them at a run and threw her arms about the paladin, sandwiching Thomas in the middle of a fierce embrace. The woman smiled, her profound joy obvious. Without warning, the woman released Taliah and threw her arms around Necrucian, who stiffened as though she'd kicked him in the shin.

"Ah Joscelin! It's so go to see you both! After having heard nothing for so long, I feared the worst!" She was the same height as Taliah, with chestnut hair only just starting to be touched with grey and lively hazel eyes that were bright with happy tears. Where Taliah's gaze was usually cold and tired by nature, the woman's was warm and kind with lines about them that told of many smiles. She seemed to be only in the winter of her thirties, or the spring of her forties, almost too young to be the paladin's mother.

"Mother.." Taliah placed a hand on the woman's shoulder as she looked up and saw not Joscelin, but Necrucian. The woman's eyes went wide in terror and only the paladin's grip on her shoulder kept her from falling. She turned to her daughter and a thousand questions flashed through the woman's eyes. Thomas poked his head out Taliah's cloak and it helped to soften the woman's fear. She grabbed the basket off the ground and backed up, motioning for them to follow.

"Don't just stand there. Come inside before the boy catches cold!" The woman managed as she tried not to stare at the deathknight.

Taliah shrugged off her cloak and put it up to dry on a hook by the hearth and Necrucian did the same. The inside of the cottage was larger than the outside had seemed to suggest and was comfortably appointed, if not richly so. Dried herbs hung from twine in neat rows along the wall and skeins of coloured wool occupied a basket in the corner by a rocking chair. A woven rug of sliver and blue stretched over the main floor and the hearth was cleaner than it had any right to be. The cleanliness and placement of everything within the living space spoke of love and care.

Taliah balanced the boy on her hip and blew on his hands to warm them. The woman closed the door and latched it, placing a pelt stuffed with sand at the foot so as not to let in any drafts. She looked at the boy and then to Taliah and made as though to speak.

"Mother, this is Necrucian. He is a deathknight free of the Lich King's control." She added the last part but it sounded unnecessary. If the deathknight hadn't been free, it would have been obvious. "Necrucian, this is my mother, Tetyana Dawnstar." The older woman took a deep breath and while it was obvious that she found the deathknight unnerving she offered her hand. It was more bravery and kindness than he'd been offered since Light's Hope.

"I now see where Taliah inherited her courage." Necrucian took her hand gently and bowed his head. Tetyana managed a smile and while it was tentative, it was also sincere.

"And who is this hansom little man?" she turned to the boy balanced on Taliah's hip, her hand cupping his rosy cheek.

"I'm Thomas, and I'm free!" the boy held up three little fingers and Tetyana laughed, bending down to kiss his hand. Taliah's mother looked up at her daughter, the smile on her face turning to a look of compassionate sadness.

"Joscelin…?" her words were gentle, but it was obvious that she already knew the answer to the question she asked.

"He fell in the battle for Light's Hope." There was sadness in the paladin's voice, but not the gut-wrenching agony that had once been there. Tetyana wiped tears from her eyes and kissed her daughter on the cheek, but said no more on the subject. She gestured to the chairs before the hearth.

"Please, sit and be welcome. I'll have tea ready in a moment."

When the tea was poured, Necrucian excused himself, picking up the wicker wood-carrier and slipped out the door to complete the task their arrival had interrupted. As the door closed behind him, Tetyana looked at the boy who sat on the floor, playing with the buckles of Taliah's boots. "Is … is the boy yours, love?" she asked gently.

"No." Taliah's words were almost sad "Necrucian and I found him; he was the only survivor of a steading hit by the Forsaken. I haven't yet had a chance to go to town hall and see if he has any extended family." She did not seem excited about finding out.

"And if he doesn't?" her mother sipped her mint tea and looked over her cup at her adult offspring. Thomas looked up at her daughter and raised his arms. Taliah bent immediately to pick him up and set him in her lap. The boy smiled happily and put his arms around the paladin.

"I don't know." Taliah shrugged unhappily.


	20. Chapter 20

Twenty.

"He looks so much like you." Tetyana mused, watching the boy with obvious maternal care "And his eyes…"

"Aye, they remind me of Joss." The paladin smiled sadly as she used her fingertips to brush an errant lock from the boy's cheek. Taliah's original stoicism and the flash of resentment she always seemed to feel on seeing her mother had melted when the woman had embraced her. She'd only live in the cottage for nine years of her life, but it would always be home. Taliah closed her eyes and inhaled slowly, letting her sadness ebb and let the familiar smells fill her with good memories. She and Joscelin had sat in these very chairs three years ago and Tetyana had fussed over them. She had baked them a cake to celebrate when she'd learned the two paladins had pledged themselves to each other. They had come in the middle of summer's bounty and Tetyana had stuffed them both with as much home cooking as they could eat during their short visit.

"Will you stay long?" The woman looked so hopeful it made the paladin wish she could.

"No. We'll be leaving on the next ship that can take us south. We're bound for Stormwind." Taliah couldn't keep the distaste from her voice "Necrucian needs to brief the Alliance on what Arthas has in store for us in Northrend, and I'm the only way he's going to get on a ship and then get past the front gate, let alone an audience with the king."

"Your father writes often." Tetyana interjected kindly "He worries about you and asks about you in every letter-" Taliah held up a hand and cut her off.

"Just because he's blood doesn't make him my father." The paladin spoke through her teeth with a tight smile that indicated this wasn't a subject she wanted to pursue. Her mother, however, was unrelenting.

"He cares about you, Taliah. If you would only get to know the man…" she sighed "He did not make a gift of that sword or that horse to buy your love. He thought they would protect you." The woman's brow furrowed "Did you leave Valiant back in town?"

"No." The paladin closed her eyes in grief "We were pursued by the Forsaken. Valiant had thrown a shoe and was going lame… slowing us down. We were forced to leave him behind. I don't even know if he still lives."

"Ah love, I'm sorry." Tetyana looked down at the boy in the paladin's lap. "I beg you, speak with your father while you're in Stormwind. It would do his spirit good to see you, and what you have become." There was more than a little pride in her mother's voice. The door opened and Necrucian returned with a carrier full of firewood, and another armload besides. Tetyana smiled and thanked him graciously as Taliah helped stack the wood by the fire and all conversation about the man ceased.

After dinner, Necrucian had excused himself to ride a quick patrol around Southshore, though Taliah knew it was a thinly veiled excuse to leave her alone with her mother. The deathknight seemed more at ease with those who looked on him with scorn and hatred than with kindness and respect as Tetyana did. The interior of the cottage was lit by oil lamps, casting everything in a warm, soft glow of gold. Some of Taliah's old childhood clothes had been dug out of the attic and the boy was now dressed in clean woollens of combed lambswool. They sat and talked of small things, like gardening and which chickens made better laying hens. Thomas was asleep in Taliah's lap, reclined in her arms as the paladin rocked him gently. Tetyana watched her daughter with a loving smile.

"It suits you, you know." the woman said and Taliah looked at her in question. "Motherhood." She said in reply, gesturing to the boy who slept in the paladin's arms. "If the boy has no family, you should consider adopting him."

"And what kind of life would he have?" the paladin's voice was cheerless. "These last few days have been the first in over a year I've slept in a bed and knew where my meals were coming from. I'm constantly watching my back, on guard for bandits, the horde and the undead. There's nothing I can offer the boy but a life of hardship." The door creaked open and Taliah jumped slightly. Thomas made a grumpy little noise in his sleep and his brow furrowed, but he did not wake. Necrucian bent his head as he entered the low doorway and brushed the show from his shoulders. Tetyana gave him a smile before she turned back to Taliah.

"You love him, that much is obvious. I've seen the way he looks at you, Taliah. You know he loves you as well, you can see it in his eyes and the way he clings to you." Tetyana shrugged and placed her hands in her lap "You've been fighting so long, Taliah. You've done your duty for a King and a country that no longer exist. Perhaps it is time for you to hang up your spurs and sword…" Necrucian did not look at either of the women and merely sat in the chair opposite them near the hearth.

"And live an quiet idyllic life?" Taliah shook her head "You don't understand, mother. The Lick King himself was at Light's Hope. He mustered ten thousand undead just to attack that little chapel to draw out _one_ man. What happens when he finally feels inclined to go on the offensive and attack the last human kingdom left in Azeroth? If we don't take the fight to him in Northrend, a great tide of darkness will wash over these lands and destroy every living thing in it's path."

"But why must _you_ go, Taliah? Between the Argent Dawn and the Alliance, they can muster tens of thousands of troops. You've done enough and suffered so much. When do you get to rest?" Her mother was trying her best not to beg, but they had been apart for so long. "I never should have agreed to foster you with the Silver Hand. You would have been safe enough here."

"There's no guarantee of that." The paladin shrugged and stretched her legs out, wiggling her toes. "Mother, I fight because that is what I was trained to do. I fight so others don't have to, and so that they can live their quiet, idyllic lives and never have to see and do the things I've had to."

"Perhaps your mother is right, Taliah." The deathknight's voice was grave and the paladin shot him a look of pure annoyance. "You've suffered enough, paladin. There are others who can fight in your place. The boy needs you, surely you can see it. Escort me to Stormwind, but after that…"

It was obvious Taliah wanted to set forth on a lively and more than likely profane argument but the sleeping toddler in her arms prevented it. "And what, sit on my ass while my skills go to rust? The only thing I know how to do is 'hold sword at blunt end, stick pointy end into enemy'. I'm going to Northrend." She whispered fiercely. "I could stay here, and if you fail to destroy the Lich King, we'll all die."

"And if you go to Northrend, you could die while we win the broader war and leave the boy orphaned twice over." The deathknight replied "As a soldier, you are expendable Taliah, and not irreplaceable. Do you think the boy considers you that?" Necrucian could tell the young woman was furious, but did not really understand why. He was giving her an out, a chance to live a normal life away from the killing, dying and suffering, and she was fighting him at every turn.

"And if everyone else with something to lose didn't take up arms against the enemy we'd have lost Lordaeron to the orcs in the First War. I'm going to Northrend, with or without you, Alliance, Fordring or the Ebon Blade." She rose carefully despite her anger, but her voice was tight and carried the heavy weight of finality. "That is the last I will say on the subject. I bid you good night." The paladin retreated into one of the rooms and Tetyana shook her head and sighed as the door closed.

"I apologize for my words." The deathknight still looked after the paladin, seeming to stare at the closed door "I should have remained silent."

"You were trying to get her to see reason, Necrucian. Never apologize for that." The woman smiled and placed her hand on his. "She is stubborn, but her heart is always in the right place, even if her mind isn't." Tears spiked the woman's lashes "She's been gone so long, I don't really even know her anymore." She spoke in a whisper and her words did not carry beyond the deathknight. "Is she always so angry?"

Necrucian chose his words carefully "I have not known your daughter for very long, but Taliah has suffered much these last few weeks, and she has been under a great deal of strain. Our journey has not been easy."

"I only met Joscelin once." Tetyana leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes, smiling with the memory. "Such a gallant young man, so compassionate and loving. They were each halves of a whole; he was the calm, analytical one and Taliah always so quick to action." The woman's smile faded and she looked to the deathknight with eyes filled with grief "I fear her moral compass may not be as strong, now that he is gone. 'A ship with a damaged rudder does not weather well the storm', as the saying goes here." There was genuine worry in the woman's eyes.

"Taliah will weather the storm, m'lady." Necrucian replied at the woman stood from the chair. Out of ingrained etiquette, he stood as well and Tetyana took his hand gratefully, giving the black mailed appendage a squeeze.

"I beg a favour of you, Knight." The woman looked up at the deathknight without fear. Once over her initial shock, Tetyana had treated him as a guest in her home and showing him kindness he'd seen only in Jessa McDonnell since his dark rebirth. It touched him and made him feel a little more alive.

"Anything, m'lady."

"Watch over her, Necrucian." Tears stilled from the woman's eyes, though her face remained serene. "She will go where the Light leads her, but I fear this time she may not be ready to face what lies at her destination."

"Do you mean Northrend, or Stormwind?" Necrucian asked and the woman gave him a sad smile.

"Both."


	21. Chapter 21

Twenty-One.

Taliah rose early and walked back to Southshore before either Thomas or her mother had awoken. Necrucian, who never seemed to sleep, hadn't asked her where she was going, and she had slipped out of the cottage in silence. Winter hadn't even official begun yet on the calendar, but there was already half a foot of snow on the ground. The morning was clear and cold, and the paladin pulled her cloak about her. Drifting had covered their tracks from the evening before, and the sparkling white canvas that stretched out before her made the paladin feel incredibly alone.

The main street was already bustling with activity as people went about their normal, uneventful lives, and the cloaked paladin moved among them unnoticed. She could smell bread baking, meat cooking, and the ring of hammer on metal from the various shops. Voices spoke in merry tones, greeted each other, haggled good-naturedly over prices or enquired about each other's families. It was so much different than the North, where only the banter of soldiers, the crackle of cooking fires and the ring of the armourers and blacksmiths broke the terrible stillness of the Plaguelands. Rather than enticing her to consider staying and settling into a mundane existence, Taliah felt pulled in the opposite direction. So many people seemed blissfully unaware of the evil to the North, and the paladin was determined to keep it that way.

The docks were disappointingly empty. Only one merchantman was tied to the slips and the ship didn't look as though she were in any shape to sail anytime soon. "We was attacked north o Menethil Harbour." The captain told her bitterly "We limped in with shredded sails, a hole in the port side fo'c'sle ye could throw a pony through, and ten crew less than what we started wit."

"Attacked by what?" Taliah warmed herself by a potbellied iron brazier in the dockmaster's shack.

"Naga." The weathered man spat into the fire. "First sightin I heard o in these waters fer nigh on thirty years. Ol' King Menethil, Light rest his soul, set the navy on 'em and s'posedly cleaned 'em out. 'Parently they missed a few." His bear was grey, shot through with ginger streaks and his moustache was yellowed from pipe smoke. The captain's face was tanned and deeply line, the countenance of a man who live in the sun and the salt spray of the ocean. His brows were bushy and white and seemed to move independently of each other like two fuzzy caterpillars, while his dark green eyes were hooded and hawk-like.

"The next ship isn't due in for almost a month, longer if they run into the same trouble as the _Arcareena_." The dockmaster grumbled, obviously unhappy. He was just as weathered at the merchant captain and older besides.

"What's your destination when you've finished repairs?" Taliah looked at the man sidelong. The captain snorted and looked at the cloaked woman critically.

"Once we get ourselves rerigged, we be heading south. I got three hundred bales o wool that needs be delivered, and no room for them that just takes up room, lassy." He harrumphed and took a deep drag of his pipe, blowing the smoke out his nose.

"How about room for two who're handy with a sword?" With a flick of her wrist, Taliah revealed the hand-and-a-half at her hip. The captain looked her up and down again, not seemingly impressed.

"Longs the number o fools carry a blade these days and shorts the number thet can actu'ly use 'em. Lemme see yer hands, girl." He said gruffly. The paladin pulled off her leather mittens and held out her hands for scrutiny. Captain Jarvas took the woman's hands in a firm grip, his thumbs running over her palms as though he expected them to be soft. One bushy brow rose as he inspected the calloused palms and fingers. Turning her hands over, he took in the scarred knuckles and heavy, engraved silver loop bearing an open hand on her ring left finger. "Ye be a paladin.."

"Aye, is that a problem?" Taliah asked dryly.

"No, but do ye have the coin for passage?" the old captain's eyes were shrewd and he chewed no his clay pipe. "I don't do charity work, though thet ring's worth a pretty penny."

"The ring is dear to me and not for barter. The only coin I have is my vow to protect your ship for as long as I'm aboard, Captain." The paladin replied with a shrug. "I've come a long way to get even this far, and I must make Stormwind with all due haste with my companion. If you'll not take us, I'll bloody well swim if I have to." The captain grinned and laughed.

"I tell ye wat, girl. Ye take an oath to protect me ship and crew, and confer blessin's on thems that ask, and I'll take ye to Stormwind as fast as the _Arcareena_ will sail." The old man gruffed "But be warned, Lady. Me crew and meself be men o the sea, and while ye not be havin to worry about yer womanly honour on me ship, we be rough talkers and hard drinkers, and anyone we picks up to fill the empty berths in me crew roster will be likewise. I don't wanna be hearin complaints from ye about cussin or bawdy turns o phrase. I knows how ye paladins can be.." he held up a gnarled, calloused finger in warning. The paladin grinned.

"I don't think it'll be much of a fucking problem, good captain." Taliah inclined her head and held out her hand. The Captain took it in a firm grip that she returned "I'll be back in a few days to see how the repairs are going." The paladin turned and strode out, closing the door of the dockmaster's shack behind her.

"Ah.." Captain Jarvas sighed laughed "I think I be in love."

Taliah stopped next at the town hall and after some discreet enquiries, was directed to a thin, bookish man in his late forties with spectacles that sat too far down his slender nose. Kundric Zanden was the region historian and city clerk, she'd been told. If anyone knew the whereabouts of any extended family Thomas might have, it was he. He'd greeted her warmly and offered her tea as she explained why she'd sought him out.

"Oh dear, how terrible!" the man turned pale with shock. "The poor boy!" He turned to the immense bookcase behind him and Zanden tapped a finger to his lips as he fingered through old scrolls. "Geneology is a hobby of mine. I must have the Kreever family histories here somewhere."

"Kreever?" the name was not familiar, though it wouldn't have been, considering how long she'd been absent from the Hillsbrad area.

"Yes, Arvik Kreever and his five brothers came from the North as refugees after the... unpleasantness." The man made a face as though the words were sour on his tongue. Taliah guessed the 'unpleasantness' had been the plague and the fall of Capital City. "Ah, here it is." He pulled out a long vellum scroll and smoothed it over his desk. "Thomas Edvin Kreever. Born three years ago to Benathia Kreever, formerly Raston before she married Edvin Kreever, the third oldest son of Charsel Kreever, of Brill, deceased, son of-"

"Does the boy have any living relations?" Taliah cut off the studious little man as politely as she could. He looked flustered for a moment and shrugged.

"All of the Kreever clan went back North two springs ago. There were a close-knit family, from what I remember, and there just wasn't enough room for them here to plant crops. They came to town to trade regularly." Zanden's thin face drooped "And there were no survivors other than the boy, you say?" The paladin shook her head and the man began to make distracted notation next to the family tree as he muttered to himself about sad happenings. "The winter is going to be hard and the crops were poor this year. It will be difficult to find the boy a guardian willing to take him in."

The thought of sending the boy away to live with people who may not even wish to be burdened with him made Taliah positively heartsick. "I will take him." She said firmly though it came out of her mouth before her brain actually registered the implications. "The boy has been through enough trauma. I'll not see him foisted off on some stranger."

"Very well, young lady." The clerk looked her up and down and Taliah felt more than a little scrutinized in her borrowed clothing and battered boots. "I will note it in the town registry. Your name, and uh.. title if you have one..?"

"Taliah Dawnstar, paladin of the Order of the Silver Hand." At her words, the clerk's eyes widened and he inclined his head.

"Forgive my rudeness, Lady Dawnstar. I will transcribe your adoption of the boy immediately." Zanden plucked a fresh quill from the glazed clay jar on his desk and began to write with a flourish. "With your permission, I would also like to fill in some blanks on your family lineage chart. I know your mother, lovely, kind woman she is, but I've never had a chance to enquire as to.. um… your paternal line." Taliah was sure she'd just been asked in the most polite way possible if she were a bastard. When the corner of her right eye twitched and the man bit his lower lip and smiled disingenuously, she was sure.

"That is none of your concern, sir." She replied with a tight smile that told the man the conversation was over. "Thank you for your aid." The paladin turned on her heels in a swirl of grey woollen cloak and as she left the man's office, she inadvertently slammed the door behind her.

Thomas was sitting at the table and Necrucian was showing him how to cut his fried ham as Taliah stepped into the door and out of the cold. They didn't speak to each other, though the paladin kissed the boy on the brow in greeting and squatted by the fire to warm herself. Tetyana busied herself with a small iron pot over the fire and stirred the porridge bubbling within.

"Did you find a ship?" Her mother asked, trying to break the silence. The woman tried to smile as though talking about the weather.

"Aye, we leave in a two weeks, or as soon as they repair." The paladin replied emotionlessly "The captain accepted our protection as payment. Seems they had naga trouble on the leg in."

"Taliah, if it's coin you need, I can-" Tetyana swung the pot from the fire and pulled it from the hook with a thick wool mitt.

"I don't want his coin." Taliah cut her mother off a little more curtly than she'd intended and mentally kicked herself.

"You've naught but the clothes on your back." Tetyana protested, her normally serene tone coloured by frustration "You've no horse and no armour. Quit being so damnably stubborn and prideful and take help when it's offered. Does it really matter whose bloody coin it is? I have plenty of it and don't use it. You have none and need it. Seems like this isn't too complicated, or at least is shouldn't be."

"Why you mad, Tala?" Thomas looked over at the paladin with big blue eyes. He had a bit-sized piece of fried ham on the end of an iron fork and was trying to get the devilishly heavy thing to stop weaving long enough to stuff in his mouth. Necrucian took the fork from the boy and offered him the morsel. Thomas seemed to forget about the subject and chewed happily, his little hand resting on the big deathknight's gauntlet.

"And what of the boy?" Necrucian was beginning to understand where Taliah's tenacity came from. Apparently the paladin had inherited more than her mother's cheekbones. "Did you speak to the clerk?"

"Yes, I spoke to the nosy son-of-a-b.." she caught herself before she could finish "It is unlikely the boy has any living relations." Taliah sighed and ran a hand down her face as she stood and glanced at the boy as he ate.

"And?" her mother persisted "What becomes of him?" Tetyana asked doggedly and the paladin threw her hands in the air.

"And, I agreed to adopt the boy! Are you happy?" from the look on Tetyana's face the answer was obviously 'yes'. "I couldn't stomach the thought of him being shuffled off to some strangers who may not appreciate what he's already been through." she shook her head and pulled off her gloves with a sigh. "It's been transcribed in the town registry and it is official." Her mother's face lit up and she took Taliah's hands in her own.

"I'm so very happy for you, Taliah!" Tetyana's earlier annoyance with her offspring seemed to vanish, and she looked about as though searching for something "We must celebrate this! I'll make a cake and pull a roast of beef from the smokehouse! We'll have candied apples and cider wine!" She kissed her daughter on the cheek. "And presents! Thomas must have a gift or two, and some new clothing for this. We can celebrate it as though it were his birthday." The woman grabbed her cloak and nearly danced out the door. "I must go to town and get some things!" The paladin opened her mouth as though to stop her, but the door closed before she could get a word out.

"Bloody hell." Taliah grumbled. "Must she make a big deal out of this?"

"Why shouldn't she?" Necrucian put down the fork as Thomas finished his breakfast. "The poor woman gets her daughter back after three years and then has gained a grandson. She grieves Joscelin like a son and has worried after you since she agreed to have you fostered. Do you not think she deserves some happiness with the family she has been missing?" Taliah bristled out of habit but bit back the snarky reply that almost won free. Thomas looked between the paladin and the deathknight, his brow furrowed in confusion.

"Tala, wat does 'adop' mean?" big blue eyes blinked up at her in question and she knelt by the boy's chair to look him in the eye.

"It means that we are now family." She replied, trying her best to explain things in a way that the boy would understand. Thomas' brow furrowed deeper as he mulled her words around in his head.

"Fam'ly?" the boy seemed to consider this "I'm yer Thomas now?" The paladin smiled at the child's frankness.

"Aye, if that's what you wish." Taliah took the linen napkin by the boy's plate and wiped the apple butter from the corner of his mouth.

"And that mean yer my new mommy?" Thomas tilted his head and gave her an almost critical look.

"Aye, if you wish, you can." She realized that her gut felt tight, as though she were worried the boy might think ill of her replacing his birthmother. Instead a he smile and held up his arms to her.

"Mommy!" Taliah felt the tears come, though she didn't really know why. Relief? Perhaps. Happiness? She hadn't had a moment of true happiness since the night before the battle of Light's Hope. She and Joscelin had shared what had been their last night together, celebrating the act of life in a place that now knew only death. In her grief, she still half-hoped that their last union would bear fruit and she silently berated herself for being foolish.

Taliah picked up Thomas and held him, kissing his cheek as the boy pointed at the deathknight "This mean Necrushun is my new daddy?" The paladin's face went blank in surprise, as did her eyes and she blinked as her cheeks coloured.

"Uh.. I.." she fumbled, but the deathknight chuckled and rescued her.

"I'm more of an uncle… from the side of the family everyone prefers not to think about."


	22. Chapter 22

Twenty-Two.

A week passed and while Necrucian seemed only too happy to split firewood and teach Thomas how to write his name in the snow, Taliah was restless. Other than with an encamped army, this sojourn was the longest she'd been in one place after having escaped the clutches of the Scarlet Crusade three years previously. She checked the progress on the _Arcareena_'s repairs every other day and the weathered Captain Jarvas assured her things were going apace. His affirmation of "Lass, when ye're dealin with a fine lady, ye have ta treat 'er gentle and slow" was his usual way of saying things were progressing, but not as quickly as she would have liked. Taliah tried to steel herself with patience, but it was one of the many virtues she no longer possessed in any great quantity.

Thomas was having a nap and Taliah left him in the care of her mother. She left the cottage behind and walked off into the pines beyond the yards and barn, unable to suffer the domesticity anymore. The air was cold and her boots crunched in the snow as she walked through the forest. Siskins and chickadees flitted about her in the snow-laden boughs and seemed more agitated than her presence could explain. The paladin stopped and listened, pulling back the hood of her cloak and closed her eyes. It was faint, but she heard it; a deep, guttural groan, but so soft it sounded like the sway of a heavy tree in the wind. Taliah drew Peacemaker and stalked forward, following the barely audible sound of distress.

The paladin had not traveled far, pushing her way through a section of thick cedars when she saw the grey mass lying prostrate on the frozen ground. The beast's breathing was laboured, and she barely recognized him. His thick winter coat did little to hide the ribs that sprang from his sides or the hipbones that protruded obscenely. "Light be merciful…" The paladin approached the animal slowly, and at the sound of her voice, horse struggled to raise his head. "My poor boy.." Taliah knelt and pulled the destrier's head into her lap. Valiant's eyes closed as he gave a deep sigh. He looked starved, as though he hadn't eaten since they had been separated and the stallion's chipped and travel-worn hooves did much to confirm her suspicions. He had tried to return to the only place in the region he knew, Tetyana's cottage, but had been too weak to go any farther, despite the fact he was only a half-mile from his destination.

Taliah stroked her hands over the great convex head "You're home, old man." Tears froze to her lashes and she closed her eyes. _Merciful Light, lend me power enough to strengthen this noble warrior, so that he may reach his destination with the dignity he deserves. _She felt the Light rush into her, almost as it had the day she'd brought Thomas back from the dead, or when she'd lent her strength to Tirion at Light's Hope. The Power was both terrifying and exhilarating and almost more splendid than she could bear. Taliah could feel the stallion's pain through the Light, his exhaustion and desperation, but she also felt his unbroken spirit and fierce will to live. The paladin gave herself over to the Call, surrendering to a power greater than herself, and let the healing energies flow from her and into Valiant. The sensation was somewhat like immersing herself into a hotspring and breathing in the water, only without the panic and the drowning. The air around her no longer felt cold and the chilled horseflesh beneath her hands began to warm. The ragged breathing became more even and steady and the pain in the stallion's hooves and legs ebbed. As quickly as it came, the Light retreated and Taliah gasped for a breath. As her eyes opened, the paladin looked down at her destrier.

The stallion had been a gift on her tenth birthday from her father. Conveyed unto her by Prince Arthas, he'd been chosen from that year's crop of yearlings from the preeminent horse breeder in Lordaeron. The Prince had told her with a laugh that the colt's pedigree was almost as royal as his own. At first she'd wanted nothing to do with the black yearling, but Arthas and Gavinrad had insisted she care for him regardless. In time, she bonded with the leggy black colt, and he to her. Having been forced to leave him behind had been more than a little difficult to live with.

Valiant raised his head and the darkly dappled stallion rolled slowly to his belly. His legs hurt, but not as much as they had moments before. The crippling pain in his feet had dulled to a throb where they had once been pulsing agony. With a grunt and a mighty heave of starvation-weakened muscle, the destrier climbed clumsily to his feet. He was careful not to step on his paladin and the young woman rose, throwing her arms about the great stallion's neck. "I've missed you so much, old man." Valiant hobbled along on three legs, the fourth barely able to support him as Taliah led him from the forest. His knees were skinned to raw flesh and his grey hide was rife with claw marks from a mountain cat attack. And yet still, he had persevered. The paladin walked slowly at the destrier's side, her hand resting upon the still proud, arched neck as she guided him home.

The axe fell and the wood split with an explosive crack that echoed through the clearing and forest beyond. Necrucian straightened and let the axehead rest upon his shoulder as he watched Thomas help his new grandmother feed the chickens. He found splitting wood almost as therapeutic as bisecting his enemies with Redemption, only wood didn't bleed or require him to hone his sword afterwards. The deathknight picked up the split log, piled it with the rest and replaced the oiled canvas that protected it. The pile had been modest when he and Taliah had first arrived, but now it reached nearly to the roof and was as wide the span of his arms. Tetyana wouldn't have to worry about firewood until next winter. It felt odd to be in this place of peace and safety and to be treated with kindness and respect. Tetyana seemed to regard him as though he were family, for which he was profoundly grateful. They both shared their worry for the paladin, who seemed to grow only more restive as the quiet days passed.

Necrucian patted Thomas on the head as he walked across the yard and hung the axe back on its hook in the toolshed next to the barn. The livestock moved away, all but Acharon, still uneasy around in the deathknight's presence. As Necrucian closed up the toolshed, movement at the edge of the forest caught his eye and the deathknight squinted as though not quite believing what he was seeing "By the Lich's black bones…" Vaulting the livestock fence at a run, the deathknight pelted his way across the snowy field towards the paladin and the limping destrier.

Taliah filled the biggest stall in the snug barn with hay and the stallion sank into the hock-deep offering with a sigh and began to eat. The paladin sat in the hay and stroked Valiant's neck in silence. The beast groaned happily and after eating his fill, stretched out on his side and closed his eyes in sleepy contentment while his head rested in the young woman's lap. It was growing late and the others retreated to the cottage while Taliah stayed with Valiant. The great beast snored happily as he slept, and the paladin rested her back against the stall wall, her fingers stroking over the dark skin around his eyes.

Necrucian slipped into the barn and entered the stall. He leaned against the chest-high wooden wall, offering the paladin a plate of roast chicken and biscuits. "How is he?" the deathknight's eerie voice seemed loud in the quiet of the barn and Taliah rubbed her eyes in fatigue.

"Sore and hungry." She replied as she chewed a piece of herb-infused chicken. "There's so much wrong with him right now, I don't know where to start. It's hard to believe he made it so far, considering the condition he's in."

"He has the heart of a lion." Necrucian placed his hand on the paladin's shoulder "I regret leaving him, but I had no choice, Taliah. Considering how our luck had been going to that point, he might very well have gone down and crushed you or the boy." Beneath his hand, the paladin sighed.

"I know, Necrucian. I bear you no ill will for it." She looked pale and tired and the paladin rubbed at her eyes again, yawning around a mouthful of food.

"Are you hail, Taliah?" the deathknight asked. "You've been acting strangely of late."

"Aye, I'm alright." She was silent for a long moment before she spoke again "I'm not used to all this _quiet_. It's like I'm constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop and things to go all to hell at any moment." Taliah plucked a flaky, tender biscuit from the plate with her fingers and stuffed it into her mouth. "I should be happy – there is peace here and love. I have a child to care for and a mother who loves me, and yet something inside me paces like a caged beast."

"Because you know what is out there, beyond the veil of peace and contentment; the lurking shadow of doom that means the end of all this" The deathknight gestured around him "if we cannot stop it."

"I'm so tired, Necrucian." From someone else it may have sounded like a cringer's complaint, but from Taliah it as simply a statement of fact. "My spirit is weary, but something drives me relentlessly." Her head canted back with a thump against the stall wall "I had no intentions of going to Northrend when we first set out from Light's Hope. I was going to get you to Stormwind and head back to the Plaguelands… but now?" Taliah closed her eyes, her hands resting on the sleeping destrier's face "Something is calling me to Northrend, Necrucian."

"You paladins always say you go where the Light leads you." The deathknight shrugged and settled into the hay next to the paladin. There was an arm's length between them and for a long moment the sudden heavy silence made the distance seem much greater.

Taliah's gaze became troubled as she looked sidelong at the deathknight. "I don't know what it is, but it frightens me."


	23. Chapter 23

Twenty-Three.

The paladin and the deathknight glowered at each other, each circling the other while their weapons weaved in various ready positions, waiting for their opponent to strike. Taliah took the initiative, her weapon coming up in an underhand swing at Necrucian's torso. He blocked it deftly and tried to use his sword to push his much smaller antagonist away, but she ducked her shoulder and moved around behind him. The paladin pressed her attack, striking at his back and thighs as though to cripple him, but the deathknight pivoted on his heel and fended her off.

The heavy, overcast sky dusted the two warriors with light, fluffy snowflakes and muffled the sound of their footsteps. They fought in silence, the only sound coming from either of them was the paladin's breathing. Taliah came at him aggressively in a flurry of strikes that drove Necrucian back and put him firmly on the defensive. The deathknight was immensely powerful, but the paladin was agile and quick and every time their weapons connected, she seemed to slide out of contact and in the opposite direction he wished to drive her.

The clash of weapons was loud in the dawn stillness and the two engaged in their belligerent dance. They had been at it all morning and the deathknight knew the paladin was tiring, though she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of letting it show. Finally, a heavy strike of Necrucian's sword shattered her own and Taliah dove and rolled away. The deathknight threw back his head and laughed.

"Yield, paladin." He demanded with a growl and stalked after her, sword in hand. "Put down what's left of your sword and surrender." Taliah turned in a swirl of cloak, the shattered sword in her hand.

"Never!" she snarled and held up the shattered weapon, the blade broken two thirds of the way down "You want it? Come and get it!"

Necrucian obliged her and was surprised when she moved towards him. His weapon came down in a brutal two-handed slash and she caught the blade with the crossguard. Taking advantage of their height difference, the deathknight's aggressive stance and the slippery ground, Taliah used her momentum to drop to the ground and slide between the big man's legs. Necrucian turned swiftly, bringing his weapon to bear as the paladin got to one knee and the blade of his weapon stopped at her throat.

"Yield." He growled, letting the blade press against the flesh just below her ear. The paladin glared up at him defiantly and smirked.

"Never." Taliah's smile was fierce as she looked up at Necrucian, who looked down when he felt her broken sword press into the chink in his armour between his thigh and groin.

"That's not as intimidating to a me as it is to a mortal man." He stated flatly, but swallowed audibly none the less. 

"You're not a very good liar, deathknight…" the paladin grinned wolfishly.

Necrucian chuckled "Shall we call it a draw then?" Taliah assented and as Necrucian relaxed the wooden blade at her neck, the paladin fell back in the snow with a groan.

"By the Light… you hit like a steamtank." The paladin rubbed her ribs where the Necrucian's practice sword had connected. She was tired, sore and very bruised, but it felt good to be swinging a weapon around. Necrucian laughed and offered her his hand. She caught his wrist and he hauled her upright.

"And you fight like a cornered badger." The deathknight let the sword rest over his shoulder as the two made their way back to the cottage. He reached out and patted the much shorter woman on the head. "Who would have thought there was so much tenacity in one so small?" Taliah didn't turn to look at him, only waved his hand away as though it were an annoying fly.

"It's not the size of the dog in the fight, and all that." Taliah replied. Sweat beaded her brow and froze in her lashes while her cheeks were red with cold and exertion and steam rose from her uncovered head. They walked across the garden and neither spoke for a long moment until they reached the barn. Taliah shed her cloak as she stepped inside and Valiant nickered a greeting. Throwing him an armful of hay, she took up a wooden mucking fork and began to clean his stall, throwing wet hay and manure into a wooden wheelbarrow.

"You've not told the boy yet…" Necrucian leaned against the stall, well away from the destrier. Acharon was in the stall across from Valiant, having been relegated to confinement after trampling three of Tetyana's chickens. "We leave tomorrow Taliah, or had you forgotten?" After a week of rest and almost non-stop eating, Valiant had begun to heal and put on weight. He would be in no condition to ride for many more months, and Taliah was resigned to leave him behind to recuperate. The paladin had already made arrangements with Meridith Carlson and her husband in Southshore to care for the injured destrier. They were well-respected breeders and horsemen and Taliah was confident they could handle the arrogant stallion with firm kindness. Tetyana did not have the expertise to deal with the stallion's injuries and in exchange for Meridith's help, Taliah agree to let them use Valiant on their mares in the coming spring.

"I haven't forgotten." The woman sighed "I just don't know how to tell him." She was not looking forward to the tears and the questions, but the boy had a right to know why his adopted mother was leaving him. Tetyana could not have been more enthusiastic about caring for the boy in her absence and she was thankful that Thomas loved and trusted her mother. Hopefully it would make their separation easier. "This isn't really a conversation I want to have right now."

Necrucian shrugged and left her with Valiant, attending to his own mount. The deathknight patted the undead beast between the eyes and found that he was going to miss the animal. Acharon would be staying behind as well, kept in the barn well away from the prying eyes of the local folk. While the beast did seem to enjoy raw flesh, it did not truly require food or drink, nor did he require the stall he inhabited to be cleaned. It would be hard enough to get a ship's crew to accept a former Scourge soldier aboard, let alone a beast that may or may not try to eat them.

Necrucian left Taliah to finish her mucking-out and returned to the cottage. Tetyana was helping Thomas eat his pancakes and gave the deathknight a smile as he dusted the snow from his shoulders. "You're both still in one piece, I trust?" the woman asked as she showed the boy how to hold the knife to cut the pancakes. "You were making an awful racket."

"Be glad we weren't sparring with steel." He chuckled, but while Tetyana tried to share the jest, there was obvious worry in her expression. Necrucian mentally kicked himself.

"Everything is ready then?" she asked, trying to keep a positive tone to avoid upsetting the child.

"Like this Gramma?" Thomas asked as he cut his sausage and Tetyana favoured him with a maternal smile.

"Aye." The deathknight replied "Taliah's armour should be ready by the end of the day. I believe she'll be taking Valiant to the Carlson's farm later this afternoon." Tetyana nodded in reply and Thomas looked up at her.

"What wrong, Gramma?" the boy looked between the deathknight and the woman in confusion. "Necrushun, why is Gramma sad?" As though in answer, Taliah came through the door, brushing fat snowflakes from her black hair. Thomas' face split into a grin. "Mamma!"

Taliah hung up her cloak and crossed the room, sitting in the chair next to the boy with a resigned expression. She bent and kissed him on the forehead. "Thomas, we need to speak." Her voice was soft and kind and the boy turned in his chair, sitting up straight with his hands in his lap. "Thomas, tomorrow Necrucian and I will be leaving."

The boy's brow furrowed and his mouth turned downwards "How come you have to leave? Where you going? Can I come too?"

Taliah sighed and slipped from the chair, kneeling so that she and the boy could look each other in the eye "Necrucian and I have something very important we have to do. We are leaving tomorrow on a boat and it will be a very long journey. It won't be safe for you on the ship and I don't want you to catch cold or be seasick, so you'll be staying with here with your Grandmother."

"I'd be good." The boy's bottom lip quivered and tears spiked his lashes before streaming down his cheeks "Please don leave me, mamma!" The boy hadn't called her 'Tala' since she'd told him they were now family and Taliah jaw tightened.

"I'm sorry Thomas, but you must stay here with Grandmother Tetyana. I want you to be safe and happy." The boy jumped off his chair and nearly flung himself at her. This face buried into her chest as his hands clutched at her woollen tunic. Taliah looked to her mother and the deathknight as if begging for rescue but Tetyana just shook her head as the boy wailed. Necrucian gave her no sympathy whatsoever.

"Not go, mamma!" Thomas cried as though she were leaving him alone in the woods. "Please not go! Why you have to go?"

"Thomas, look at me." The paladin said gently. After a moment the boy did and his blue eyes were red-rimmed from crying. "There is someone very bad, a very long way from here. He does terrible things to people and hurts them. Necrucian and I are going to stop him."

"What kinda things?" Thomas' lip quivered and Taliah stroked her fingers over his hair.

"Remember what happened the day we found you in the woods?" It was cruel but the boy had to understand. When his eyes widened and he nodded in terror, Taliah heart broke but she forged on. "That's the kinds of things this bad man does. Necrucian and I, and a lot of other people are going to go and stop him."

"You going to make him go 'way?" the boy wiped his eyes on his sleeve and Taliah kissed his brow.

"Aye love. We're going to make the monster go away."


	24. Chapter 24

**Twenty-Four.**

The morning broke clear and cold, the orange glow of dawn bright upon the snow. Taliah said farewell to her mother and Thomas, keeping her emotions in check as she kissed the boy on the brow and wiped away his tears. Necrucian stood at a distance, feeling uncomfortable and out of place until Tetyana and Thomas approached him. The boy put his arms around the deathknight's neck in a fierce little hug, and Tetyana stood on the tips of her toes as the big man bent his head. She kissed his cold cheek without fear or revulsion and embraced him. "You are always welcome in our home, Necrucian." The woman smiled through her tears "You are a good man. Don't let anyone tell you differently." Not knowing what to say, the deathknight thanked the woman for her kindness. Pulling the hood of his cloak up, he followed Taliah out the door.

The snow crunched beneath their boots and the paladin was aloof and silent. She wore new greaves, breastplate and vembraces over chain and boiled leather with woollens beneath. The metal was un-burnished and without design, save for the inlaid symbol of the Order of the Silver Hand on the right breast of the chestpiece. Taliah had taken Necrucians armour to be repaired, and the rents and holes from the arrows had been hammered out seamlessly. Neither soldier spoke. The air was cold in her lungs and the sun was bright. The birds in the skeletal trees made the naked forest around them much more cheerful.

"Have you ever sailed on a ship before?" The deathknight had to shorten his stride so that she didn't have to jog to keep up.

"Well.. no." the paladin admitted. She was not looking forward to being stuck on a wooden tinderbox for a month. "Why do you ask?"

"You're more pale than usual." Necrucian replied. She thought at first he was making a jest, but there was actual concern on his face when she looked up at him.

"I'll be fine. I just don't like confinement." Taliah waved dismissively. The deathknight's expression was questioning, but he said nothing more. They stopped at the various shops and picked up the pre-arranged supplies, most of which were for Taliah. She'd ordered several new leather and wool breaches and lambswool tunics, as well as an oiled wool cloak. The deathknight kept his gaze lowered and the hood of his cloak pulled forward to hide his face and no one seemed to take notice of the pair as they made their way to the docks.

A familiar face was there to meet her and Raleigh pulled the young woman into an embrace as she approached. "May the Light guide you in your travels, Taliah." The last of the cargo was being loaded aboard the _Arcareena_ and the ship was making ready. Taliah smiled and kissed the old paladin on the cheek. "The boy is well?"

"Aye, he'll be staying with my mother. Light willing, when this is all over I'll return and pretend to be a proper guardian. Thank you again, Raleigh. I owe you my life twice over, old friend." She replied with a salute.

Raleigh pulled her into a fatherly embrace once more, but looked up at the Necrucian "Keep her safe, deathknight."

Necrucian inclined his head "I will do what I can. It's no easy task." He smirked at Taliah and she glared at him. Raleigh clapped him on the shoulder with a gruff laugh and walked away, shaking his head.

"I don't need protection." The paladin muttered as she looked up at the gangplank. Taking a deep breath as though she were about to walk off a cliff, Taliah walked up the narrow wooden plank and onto the ship. Necrucian followed and as they stepped onto the deck, the captain approached. The weathered man walked with the rolling gate of a seaman and looked Necrucian up and down.

"So yer the one all the shields been talkin' 'bout." The old captain took a long drag on his pipe as Necrucian pulled back the hood of his cloak. "Aye, ye fits the descrip'shun." The man grinned "Bent a sword in two, did ye?"

The deathknight glanced at the paladin, who raised a brow in question. Necrucian ignored her and looked to the Captain instead. "Aye Captain, better to bend a cheap sword than kill a man to get a point across."

"Them be funny words comin' from th'undead, but ye look like a strong lad. As long as ye pull yer weight, I don't care if ye be beathin or unbreathin'. The paladin's pledged to protect me ship and crew, do ye do the same?" Again the man drew deeply on his pipe and exhaled through his nostrils. The cold air seemed to condense the smoke as it rose in white columns on either side of his face.

Necrucian put a fist to his still heart in salute. "I will protect your ship and crew for as long as I am aboard her, Captain-"

"Javas be me name. Brahl Jarvas. But ye'll can callin me Cap'n, sonny." The old man held out a gnarled, weathered hand and the deathknight shook it, enjoying the man's boldness. Jarvas yelled something down to the dockhands who released the _Arcareena _from her moorings. The tide was high and the ship was heavy and belowdecks, two-dozen men at oars struggled to pull the merchantman out into the bay. The Captain glanced at the paladin, who seemed pale. "Will ye and the big lad be bunkin' t'gether?"

Taliah blinked "I'm sorry, what?" She was certain she hadn't heard him correctly.

"If ye be bedmates, ye'll not find much privacy's all." Javas shrugged, not seeming to care either way. "But there'll be no graplin' on me ship, lass. Undertand?"

"I.. me? ..and him?" she looked stunned, her face flushing crimson before she looked indignant "You won't have to worry about any… 'graplin', Captain. I don't share a bunk with any man."

"Ah, one o _them_, eh?" The Captain eye her speculatively and shrugged, as Taliah's mouth opened in speechless denial "I ain't here to judge ye. Don't go getting' all indignant on me, girl." He grinned and walked the deck, eyeing the rigging and supervising the letting out of canvas. "There be spare, fresh laundered hammocks in the berthing area. We only got five bodies t'fill the empty spots on me crew roster, so there be lots of room down there." The man walked away, seemingly please with himself that he'd rendered the paladin speechless. Necrucian was trying not to laugh.

Taliah signed and shouldered her pack. "This is going to be a long fucking trip."


	25. Chapter 25

**Twenty-Five.**

A day out of Southshore, Taliah spent most of her waking hours hanging over the rail of the aft quarter, offering anything she managed to consume to the sea. Necrucian had jested that every fish for twenty miles was probably following the _Arcareena _for the free banquet. Taliah replied between retching fits by instructing the deathknight where to go and what to do with himself when he got there. By the second day, Necrucian was growing worried. When the paladin wasn't green, she was white and when she wasn't bent over the rail in misery, she was sleeping in her hammock. The seas were not even rough, but the ten-foot swells on the forty-foot merchantman proved difficult for the woman to bear.

Above her, the huge canvas sails billowed and snapped in the following winds and sailors moved about the deck or above it in the rigging. Taliah leaned against the stairs that led to the upper quarterdeck and tried to stay out of the way. Even Captain Jarvas began to take pity on her as she tried to stand vigil on the deck between bouts of seasickness.

"Yer a stubborn one, lass." The captain grinned "But there be no Naga in these waters for another twenty leagues. Get yerself some rest. Ye look like hell."

"I swore to protect your ship, Captain." The paladin said. Her mouth tasted of bile and her throat burned. "I can't do that if I'm asleep in a hammock." She gave a self-deprecating chuckle "They're bloody hard to get out of in a hurry." The canvas sleeping shrouds were more cocoons than hammocks and Taliah still hadn't yet figured out the best and easiest way to get in and out of them. Taking a deep breath, she tried to relax.

"Suit yerself, girl." The Captain chuckled gruffly "Just don't be feedin' the gulls on me deck."

By the next morning, Taliah had managed to keep down some porridge and water and began to feel immeasurably better. The pinched, worried expression Necrucian had worn like a mask for the last two days had also faded and they spent their days wandering the deck and trying to keep out from underfoot. The first mate, a genial man by the name of Urist asked if Taliah would like to climb the shrouds to the mainmast and take a look from the crow's nest. After looking up... way up... at the main, which was a few feet longer than the ship itself, Taliah had turned white and politely declined. "I'm short for a reason." she replied "I like to be close to the ground."

A few of the crew were men of the Light and she agreed to lead them in prayer whenever they felt the need. The crew were as the Captain described, hard speaking, hard working and more than eager for their ration of rum at the end of their watch. They were good men, save three of the five they'd picked up in Southshore. They didn't seem to have much use for a woman that wasn't cooking, cleaning or offering _other_ services and had grumbled as much in the galley. Urist had promptly told the three to shut their gobs.

The seas were as calm as they were going to get in winter and the wind continued to favour them as the paladin finally started to find her sea-legs. As dawn rose red and bloody on the fourth day, the Captain was wary and the crew on edge. "This be close to where the Naga hit us on the trip in." Jarvas' voice was grave "Keep a weather eye and don't be walkin to close to them rails. I'll have the cook keep a pot o coffee goin' for ye and the boys on the night watch." Taliah nodded thanks and pulled at her gauntlets.

Necrucian kept watch on the fo'c'sle for most of the morning but he kept looking aft, his eyes narrowed to slits in suspicion. Taliah warmed her hands on a tankard of tea, taking a long swallow. It was generic and bitter, but also hot and warmed her to the core in the harsh, damp cold. Her eyes swept the sky and guessed the cause of the deathknight's unease. "No gulls. No fulmars or petrels either." Various seabirds had been following the ship since she had pulled out of port. The skies were now empty but for the scudding clouds. Necrucian nodded.

"Aye.." The deathknight pointed at the dark clouds they were sailing into. "It'll be nightfall by the time we get into that weather and when we do, it'll be blacker than a lich's heart."

"We've got four hours until nightfall. I'll talk to the Captain." Taliah stood near the big deathknight, using him to block the wind. "Have you ever fought the naga before?"

The deathknight crossed his arms over his chest, his mailed fingers stroking the stubble on his jaw in thought. "No. All I've heard of them is rumour and legend. You?"

"I saw a painting of one once." The paladin shrugged. "They bleed, scream and die like everything else, I suspect."

"I'll speak to the crew and make preparations." The deathknight grinned fiercely "We wouldn't want our impending guests to feel unwelcome now, would we?"


	26. Chapter 26

**Twenty-Six.**

There was no starlight to glint off the water and the sea seemed like a black abyss licking at the great oak hull of the ship. They were invisible in the blackness, their tails propelling them through the water as though they were immense eels. The ship was running without signal lights, as many now did when they passed this stretch on their journey to or from Southshore. Vrassas recognized the name painted in script on the stern. This time, the _Arcareena_ and her crew would not escape. His reptilian head broke the surface as small waves lapped at his sides and his yellow eyes moved over the ship. All around the _Arcareena_, the waters churned from the sinuous movements of scaly bodies. Ducking his head below water once more, Vrassas gave a hiss. All around him, his companions answered with hisses and growls of their own.

The grapples made of shaped, sharpened coral, hooked the _Arcareena_'s rails and they began their stealthy climb. Vrassas heard no voices on the deck, nor the steps of anyone on watch and his small eyes narrowed as his hand gripped the rail. Beside him, the others waited for his signal, their pikes, tridents and clubs at the ready. There were only two wretched humans on the main deck, chatting in low tones. All along the rails, more than a dozen twelve-foot reptilian bodies slid onto the deck, flashing silent signals to each other with their head and dorsal crests. The two cloaked humans seemed completely unaware that they were surrounded and if Vrassas' face had been equipped with lips, he would have smirked. Instead, he and his raiding party slithered forward, weapons ready to strike.

As Vrassas' polearm slashed downwards at the smaller of the two humans, it spun around and parried his strike. It yelled something in the common tongue and all hell broke loose. The deck had been empty, but the lower yardarms had not, and crew had been hiding among the lower mast sails. With shouted oaths and curses, they slid down the rigging and shrouds waving all manner of bladed weapons. The Naga glared down at the much smaller human who bared her teeth and muttered in some language he wasn't familiar with. White, heatless fire swept up the length of the hand-and-a half she wielded as the taller male behind her waded into Vrassas' forces with single-minded, murderous intent. The deck suddenly flooded with light as the ship's signals were lit and the ship enveloped in complete chaos as the defenders fought in small, somewhat organized parties. Alone, most humans were no match for the Naga and Vrassas' raiding party had used the same tactics to sink three other ships; cause the humans to panic and they would scatter across the deck like thrown seashells where they were easily picked off. That wasn't happening this time.

Vrassas snarled and he leaned his weight into his weapon and bent his triangular, reptilian head to snap at the woman with his jagged-toothed maw. Instead of cowering, she cocked back her platemail fist and punched him square in the nose. The Naga raider saw stars and shook his head as she shoved his weapon away, downwards towards the deck. She spun and moved around him and Vrassas lunged after the woman.

Necrucian grinned as Redemption punched through the Naga's ribs and out its scaly back. He kicked the thing off his blade and it fell to the deck writhing and thrashing in death. All around him, the crew of the _Arcareena_ fought in four-man groups as he and the paladin had instructed, using pikes and cutlasses to cut the scaly marauders down or drive them back over the rails. As the deathknight cut another serpent-like creature near in two, his blade shearing through its weapon, flesh and bone, he caught sight of Taliah taking the steps to the quarterdeck two at a time, an angry Naga right behind her.

Vrassas shrieked in fury as the woman flew up the steps to the after quarterdeck and hacked at her with his polearm. The weapon bit through the paladin's flapping cloak and sank into the deck, abruptly arresting her forward movement. The woman's head jerked back and she made a gagging sound as the cloak caught her around the throat, but she reached up and unclasped it. The flowing wool garment fell free and her turned on Vrassas, her flaming sword sweeping around in a hard arc. He parried, but the strange blade with its glowing golden runes sheared through the wooden haft of his weapon. The woman pressed her attack as the Naga feinted to the left and her weapon found nothing but air. As the paladin followed through with her swing, his six-foot tail snaked around her leg to the knee and flung her across the quarterdeck. The woman collided with the mizzenmast and air rushed from her lungs as Vrassas came at her again.

The night was a din of yells, reptilian shrieks and the clash of steel. Taliah gasped for air and shook her head to clear it as the huge green and blue raider came at her. It roared, small yellow eyes flashing in anger as it slashed at her with its shortened polearm. The paladin dodged and spun, Peacemaker whirling in her hands and catching the Naga a blow to the upper left arm, laying open the flesh very nearly to the bone. Again it roared and she leapt over the thick, sinuous tail as it tried to swat her legs from beneath her. Short-headed, with powerful jaws and three pairs of thick facial tentacles, the crested, spined Naga was unlike anything she'd ever seen, as though someone had played a sick practical joke involving a snake, a crocolisc and a lionfish. And then made it twelve-feet long. Six feet of that was upright like a man while the other half slithered along like a serpent. And the smell... The fishy odour coming off the thing would have made the paladin gag had she not been busy trying to keep it from killing her.

A cheer caused Taliah to give the lower deck a quick glance as she dodged away from the Naga's sweeping polearm. The taken by surprise by the audacity of the merchantman's crew, the rest of the raiders were dead or dying. The crew were finishing off those that still twitched and writhed while Necrucian was making his way towards aft to aid her. The Naga pursuing her feinted with what was left with his polearm and Taliah ducked, diving in the opposite direction and realized too late that she had made a terrible mistake. The Naga's tail whipped out as she tumbled across the deck and wrapped around her throat. With a gasped invective, the paladin raised her weapon and hacked down at her assailant as it pulled her into the air by the neck. The Naga looked her in the eye and laughed, and then let out an ear-splitting guttural roar.

"Taliah!" Necrucian sprinted across the deck, leaping prostrate corpses as the Naga throttling the paladin caught the flaming blade of Peacemaker with its polearm. Even in the weak light of the ship's lamps, he could see her face turning red as her free hand pulled at the length of coiled tail about her throat. He was halfway across the main deck when shouts of alarm rang out from the crew.

"Light have mercy! Look at the water!" The First Mate's face blanched and Necrucian hazarded a look over the rails. There were more Naga. Many more. The air around the ship filled with snarls and hisses as they swiftly climbed the side of the ship like a scaly wave.

"To me, men!" Necrucian bellowed and the crew were only too happy to obey. The small groups of men clustered around the deathknight and Necrucian could feel their fear. He focused on his hatred, his rage and pain and reached out his hand as his glowing blue eyes flared terrible and bright. The air seemed to turn even colder as tendrils of darkness slithered from the deathknight's right hand, his deep, hollow voice speaking in a harsh language no one around him recognized. As the fresh wave of Naga pulled themselves over the ship's rail, the dead raiders began to twitch. "Rise! Rise and fight for your _master_!" The deathknight boomed in a voice that seemed to shake the very air.

Vrasass' head rocked back as the squirming woman kicked him in the jaw and he felt his teeth splinter. "Vile little pessst!" he snarled and the female human snarled something back as she yanked her sword from its locked position against his polearm and hacked at Vrasass' tail. It sheared through flesh and bone and he howled in agony. The woman dropped to the deck, gasping and choking as she pulled the severed appendage from around her neck. With a snarl, Vrasass swatted at her with his bleeding stump and knocked her from the quarterdeck to the main deck of the ship.

Taliah hit the deck and rolled, unsure if the blood on her face was her own or the Naga's. All around her, more Naga were coming over the rails. As she got to her feet, she saw the crew cluster around the deathknight, who held out his hand. She couldn't hear what he was saying, but she saw his lips move, his face contorted into an ugly snarl and dark tendrils of foul magic snaked out from his hand. Just the feel of it in the air made her stomach roil, and then the dead Naga began to rise from the deck like mindless puppets. "Rise!" Necrucian boomed, his eyes flaring with terrible, bright eldritch light "Rise and fight for your _master_!" They threw themselves at their former fellows and the crew seemed to shake off their shock and join them, hacking and slashing at the panicked living Naga. The paladin could only stand in horrified shock as Necrucian waded into battle beside his minions, Redemption hacking off scaly limbs with every sweep.

Vrasass threw himself at the woman and hit her from behind as she stood in mute horror. So intense was his hatred of this little creature who'd wounded him, he didn't even realize what was going on around him. He knocked the woman to the deck and snapped at her face, wanting to tear it from her skull, but she got her sword up as his jaws snapped shut, and all he got was a mouth full of flaming mithril blade.

"Get off me, you sonofabitch!" Taliah snarled. The Naga was heavy and crushed her into the deck as he pinned her shoulders down. His massive jaws snapped on her blade and cut the sides of his mouth but he didn't seem to care. The raider pulled his face away and grabbed her by the wrists, slamming the paladin's arms to the deck. With a roar of pure hatred, he lunged at her face and Taliah knew she was about to die.

Vrasass roared in triumph. A hollow victory – his raiding party was dead or driven off, but he would have the satisfaction of tasting the woman's blood before he died. He lunged forward, only to be thrown back with great force as massive sword sailed through the air and took him full in the mouth. He slammed into the side of the door leading bellow the quarterdeck and howled in agony around the greatsword that filled his maw and pierced the back of his throat, pinning him to the wooden wall like a fly. Vrasass blinked blankly, choking on his own blood as he flailed and clawed at the blade, and found himself staring into a grey, human face. A smirk twisted the man's lips and his eyes glowed an unnatural blue light. With a jerk, the human pulled his sword from Vrasass' ruined mouth and he fell to the deck, writhing violently in mindless anguish.

Necrucian looked down at the flailing Naga before dispassionately taking off its head with a swift stroke of Redemption. The mangled tail still thrashed as the stumped neck haemorrhaged a wash of dark blood across the deck and the deathknight's boots. Necrucian looked around- the only Naga still aboard were merely reanimated shells and he ordered them over the side before releasing them from his necromantic spell. They landed in the dark waters with a splash and sank quickly into the abyss. He turned and found the crew staring at him, their eyes wide and faces pale and blood-spattered. The silence on the deck seemed interminable, until the First Mate let up a shout.

"Three cheers for Necrucian!" Ulrist waved his cap "Huzzah!" The crew cheered and clapped each other on the shoulder in celebration, and the deathknight could have sighed in relief. Men cheered and clapped him hard on the back, but when he looked over the crowd to search for Taliah, she stood where she'd been when the Naga had flattened her to the deck. Her face was ashen and blank and he pushed his way through the crowd, fearing she'd been injured.

"Taliah, are you wounded?" he reached out to her, but the paladin's eyes flared white in fury and white fire kindled along her blade as she brought Peacemaker into a ready position.

"_Don't touch me_." She voice was a hoarse growl as she backed away.

Necrucian sheathed Redemption across his back and held his hands up in a placating gesture. "Taliah, I only-"

"Only what?" she demanded "Cast necromantic magics and defiled the dead?" 

"He 'only' saved me ship, me crew and yer life, lass." Captain Jarvas admonished sternly "I ain't gonna lose sleep on the specifics of how he done it, neither." The old man clapped the big deathknight on the shoulder "Good work lad."

"The ends don't justify the means." The paladin retorted and sheathed Peacemaker angrily. The white glow died from her eyes and her expression held nothing but disgust for Necrucian.

"The means and the ends suits me just fine, pay the paladin no mind, lad." The Captain told him, again patting the deathknight on the armoured shoulder before giving orders to the crew who set about cleaning up the decks. As the crew dispersed, Taliah turned away and walked aft with long, angry strides. Necrucian trotted after her and caught the woman by the arm. 

"Taliah, we were outnumbered. The ship and our mission were in peril. What was I supposed to do? Quit being a self-righteous fool, girl. They were only Naga." The deathknight tightened his grip on the paladin's arm and she stopped but did not turn to look at him.

"You desecrated the dead." She grated and refused to look at him. Her voice was hoarse and her throat red where the Naga had tried to choke her. "I don't care if they were 'only Naga'. You have no right keep the dead from their rest." Her body tensed and her gauntleted hands curled into fists. "Remove your hand, deathknight or I'll remove the Light-damned thing myself… at the wrist. Your touch _sickens_ me."

The vehemence of her words caught Necrucian like a slap in the face and he let go of the paladin's arm. She stalked away, entering the door below the quarterdeck and disappearing into the bowels of the ship.


	27. Chapter 27

Twenty-Seven.

Taliah was aloof and quiet the next morning, having spent the night healing the odds and ends of wounds suffered by the men. None of the _Arcareena_'s crew had been slain and Captain Jarvas was more than happy with the battle's outcome. Other than a broken leg and a minor belly wound she'd been able to heal without too much difficulty, the injuries had been minor. Necrucian, whom most of the men had somewhat shied from previously, was now regarded as a hero.

The paladin refused to even look at him, let alone speak to the deathknight. Considering how tender her neck and throat were after having nearly been choked to death by a twelve-foot lizardfish, she hadn't spoken to anyone after her angry words to Necrucian.

The days passed slowly and the foreboding silence between the deathknight and the paladin stretched. She would walk the deck during the day while Necrucian took the night watch and they generally avoided each other when at all possible. The confining nature of the ship was beginning to wear on her, and Taliah tried to keep her mind busy and tried to be useful. The carpenter's mate showed her how to effect minor emergency repairs to a ship at sea while Ulrist was only more than happy to teach her how to navigate with the various tools available to men at sea. The paladin was particularly fascinated with the quadrant and sextant, the complexity of the latter giving her a new appreciation for the ship's navigator.

A fortnight after the battle, Taliah stood on the quarterdeck looking off to the North. The weather, while cold, had been unusually calm and she wondered if fate had finally decided to take pity and leave her in peace.

"We been fortunate so far." Captain Jarvas sipped tea from a tankard, the collar of his wool coat pulled up around his face to ward off the wind. A few gulls followed the ship, waiting for the invariable scraps pitched from galley after meals and their shrieks and calls added a nice counterbalance to the constant white noise of the sea on the hull and the snap of canvas sails.

"Aye." was all he got in reply and the seacaptain glanced at the woman sidelong.

"Yer bein awful hard on the lad, paladin." Jarvas muttered "He mayhap did something questionable, but he did it for the right reasons. As I be sayin' b'fore- He saved me ship and crew. Saved yer life too. Ye should be thakin him, not treatin' him like he be something ye stepped in and can'a scrape from yer boot."

"I knew a man once, brave and noble, but reckless." The paladin replied, her gaze still holding to the North. "In a time of great strife, he embarked on a quest to save his country. He did some questionable things, told himself the ends justified any means, if only he could save his people." Finally Taliah's head turned just enough to look the Captain in the eye. "His name was 'Arthas'. Maybe you remember him."

"Aye, I take yer meanin, lass." The Captain conceded "But the lad don't feel good 'bout what he done, I can tell ye that much. It be up to ye, o course, but I think a kind word from ye would do him good."

"With all due respect Captain, I'm not his nursemaid." Taliah crossed her arms over her breastplate, her gaze turning back to the North. "And I'm not his friend. Once we arrive in Stormwind, my duty to his mission is over. Where he goes from there, I couldn't give less of a damn."

Jarvas chuckled dryly "Fer a purvey'r o the Light, ye'v got a hard heart, girl. Considerin' what the boy's obviously been through, maybe ye should be a bit more sympathetic." The old man scratched at the white and ginger beard on his jaw "If a repentant sinner aint' to be forgiven, then the Light's changed a might since I was last in a chapel." The Captain clapped her on the shoulder "Life's too short as 'tis to be mad all th'time, lass. Think on it." He strolled off in his rolling sailor's gait and Taliah pulled her cloak about herself to ward off the damp and cold.

By sundown, the weather had turned and the sea had gone from deep blue to angry grey as the sky went black with storm clouds. Captain Jarvas cast a suspicious eye to the sky and ordered his hands to the shrouds to reef in some canvas. "The Bitch o Winter be comin' boys." The ship pitched like a bucking horse as the seas swelled monstrously and the wind began to howl through the rigging like a wounded beast. Taliah's stomach had already forcibly emptied itself, and the poor woman was seated on the floor in a corner of the berthing area, her head between her knees. She wasn't the only one, and crew who were not needed on deck were ordered below. Even some of the seasoned sailors looked green. Unaffected by the cold and wet, Necrucian offered to stay on the quarterdeck to help the wheelsman keep the ship on course.

In her seasick misery, Taliah had forsworn her armour, bundling herself in as many woollens as she could fit overtop of each other and her cloaked pulled about her. For the first time in a long while, she was terrified. Battle she could handle. She had some control over what happened and where she went, but in the belly of the ship, the paladin felt helpless and small. The clash of water against the hull was like being caught in the middle of a rockslide and the hull shuddered every time it crashed into the troughs between the waves. The force was bone jarring and Taliah half expected the ship to splinted into a million matchsticks. Her eyes squeezed shut against the bucking and rolling of the ship and the howling of the wind, and she pressed her hands to her ears.

The sleet slapped him in the face and the wind tore at his cloak and armour as the big deathknight and the brawny wheelsman, an auroch of a man everyone called Little Bob, wrestled with the ship's wheel. "The wind is backing, Captain! We can't hold this course any longer or we'll be demasted!" Little Bob had to yell to make himself heard over the wind. Necrucian had not a clue what all the nautical terminology meant, but it didn't sound good. A wave washed over the main deck and sailors clamoured for the lifelines strung fore-to-aft.

"Take her farther out, Little Bob." The Captain roared "We already be a league off course. Take us farther out to sea and we'll ride this Bitch o Winter out." The ship was only a league or two off the coast and they couldn't risk hitting a hidden shoal. Necrucian relinquished his hold on the wheel and Little Bob grunted, his entire body straining as he turned the ship to meet the waves head-on.

By ten bells, the wind had picked up and the waves battered the _Arcareena_ like something from nightmare. Captain Jarvas called of all sail to be brought in, lest they lose a mast and the First Mate rang the bell for all hands on deck. Sick and weary, Taliah staggered up the steps and out into the storm that lashes with sleet and shrieking winds. There was ice coating the shrouds and rigging, the deck and the yards and men set upon it with fists and hammers to remove it. The deathknight watched the paladin try to keep her balance on the wildly pitching deck, throwing all of her weight into helping reef a line to the mizzen's lower mast sail. A sudden cry went out as a monstrous wave loomed off the port bow, and the men scrambled for the lifelines. As a three-foot wall of water washed across the deck, Necrucian watched in horror as Taliah was caught in it. She flailed at the lifeline and missed, missed again as Ulrist tried to grab her arm.

To the deathknight, everything seemed to move in slow motion. Taliah's eyes were wide in terror as her gloved fingers raked at the deck like a desperate, drowning cat. The frigid water swept over her as the paladin's mouth opened in a gasp for air, only to be filled with more cold seawater. The wave careened over the deck and spilled over the starboard rail in a foam-white cascade, returning sea. And it took the paladin with it.


	28. Chapter 28

Twenty-Eight.

Just the bone-numbing chill of the water was like a physical blow and Taliah flailed in instinctive, primal panic. Her head broke the surface and she tried to hack the water from her lungs. When the next wave pushed her under, she lost all sense of up and down until her thrashing brought her to the surface again. The paladin tried to call for help but could only try and cough the water from her nose and mouth. She could see the _Arcareena _looming above her, a dark shape against a dark sea and sky, and vaguely heard the cry of "Man overboard!" over the howling fury of the wind.

Taliah floundered as she tried to keep her head above water. Already her hands and feet were numbed to the point of uselessness and her arms and legs were following along apace. The multiple layers of wool began to drag her down and Taliah clawed for the surface with every ounce of strength she had.

All around him, men recovered and ran to the rails, searching for the paladin in the dark waters below and he scanned the waves. One foot on the rail and one hand gripping the quarterdeck shroud, he stared at the water as though his desperation alone would make her appear. Captain Jarvas was beside him, the old man's knuckles white on the rail, a coil of rope under his arm. "There!" Necrucian's finger stabbed at a patch of churning water near the stern and both men heard a frantic, terrified cry for help that ended far too abruptly. Without hesitating, Necrucian snatched the coil of rope from the Captain and dove off the rail.

Taliah slipped below the surface, her arms and legs refusing to function. Her muscles had begun to cramp agonizingly from the cold, but still she fought as she slipped below the surface for the last time. Her body cried out for oxygen and she unconsciously took another breath of seawater. She wanted to cry, rage and to scream at the unfairness of it all. She had survived Anderhal, the battle for the Sunwell and the bloody fight for Light's Hope, only to die to a rogue wave at sea? It just didn't seem right. Taliah could hear her heartbeat slow and felt her lungs strain painfully in her chest. It was almost a relief when the darkness took her and she felt no more.

Necrucian saw her, limp and lifeless in the black, sinking into the abyssal embrace of the sea. He caught her roughly about he waist and half-hoped she would punch him in the face, but while her grey eyes were half-opened, she did not move. As the deathknight broke the surface, he gave a howl of despair and held the limp woman to him as he tied off the rope about them. He heard the Captain give the order to haul and the crew pulled with all of their combined might. The pair ploughed through the water and as they reached the stern of the ship, they were hoisted into the air and over the rail. He landed roughly on the deck, Taliah atop him and someone cut the rope that bound them together. The deathknight rolled the paladin onto her back as the ship's signal light washed across her white face. The woman's head lolled as the ship pitched, and her eyes were open and staring. When the roll of the ship caused her head to turn to the side, water left her nose and mouth in a rush. In desperation, he gathered her in his arms and pinching her nose shut, clamped his mouth over hers and forced a deep breath of air into her drown lungs.

The crew had gone back to manning their stations and the Captain clamped a hand on the deathknight's shoulder. "She's gone, lad." he yelled over the wind. Necrucian ignored him and pushed another deep breath into Taliah's lungs. He felt her chest expand, but still she did not move.

_Ah Taliah…_ he mourned silent _Not like this.._ He held her as the world continued to go to hell around them and gave the paladin the kiss of life one finally time. The limp body in his arms suddenly stiffened and she flailed in panic, her grey eyes wide and terrified. The Captain just stared for a moment.

"Get her to me cabin, lad!" his voice was barely audible in the wind "Get her warmed up 'fore she dies o the hypothermia!"

Necrucian scooped up the coughing, gagging paladin and rushed her belowdecks. Taliah clung to him as though he was the only thing keeping her alive and her body trembled violently with cold and shock. The paladin's breathing was ragged and chocked and came out in high-pitched wheezes every time she gasped for air. Shoving past the galley on his way aft, he bellowed to the cook to put coals in the only bedwarmer on the ship and bring it to the Captain's cabin.

The deathknight practically kicked in the door and set Taliah in a chair. She looked like a drowned cat- wet, miserable and shaking uncontrollably. He began to strip the woman out of her soaked woollen garments and she stared blankly, her face still deathly pale but the paladin did not fight or resist. She looked confused and disoriented and her lips were turning blue while dark circles formed around her eyes. Wrapping her in a the quilt that rested on the back of the chair, Necrucian carried her to the bed and piled blankets upon her as the ship's cook, a pot-bellied, hairy man whom everyone just called 'Cookie', brought in the cast-iron bed warmer. Resembling a lidded frying pan with an inordinately long handle and containing coals from the ship's stove, it steamed in the cold air. Cookie glanced over the shivering woman and gave the deathknight a look that did not seem very hopeful and withdrew quietly, closing the door behind him. Necrucian ignore him and shoved the bed warmer under the thin mattress beneath the paladin's back. The deathknight pulled off his gauntlets and lit the braziers in the cabin with a taper. The cabin slowly began to warm, but the woman did not stop shivering.

Taliah could never remember feeling so _cold_ and she could barely recall where she was. Her vision swam in and out of focus as she teetered on the edge of unconsciousness. "Taliah." The voice was firm and familiar and she focused on the blurry grey face that hovered above her. "Stay with me, Taliah." She reached up with a trembling hand to touch the familiar face with its stubble-covered jaw and glowing blue eyes. The faded chestnut hair was pasted to his face and skull and water dripped off his chin. Try as she might, she could not put a name to the visage. Wavering fingertips traced the dark, bruise-like markings that ran like scars over his eyes, from forehead to cheeks. While they marked the man as one of the first to be raised as a deathknight by the Lich King, at the moment she had no idea what they were.

Necrucian took her hand gently. He put it back beneath the heavy blankets and listened to the air whistle in her lungs as she breathed. Cookie returned with a bowl of hot broth, managing not to spill any as the ship heaved and sank as she road out the storm. He offered the bowl to the deathknight with a shake of his head and left the room as silently as he'd entered. Necrucian pulled the dazed paladin into a seated position, his arm supporting her shoulders as he put the bowl of steaming liquid to her lips. "Drink." It was not a request, and the paladin did as she was bid, taking a slow sip of the hot liquid. It burned like fire on the way down her throat, and simmered in her cold belly, making her squirm in discomfort.

After several hours, Taliah began to become more lucid, and her expression less confused. Once glassy eyes began to clear and the paladin became aware of her surroundings. "I'm naked… why am I naked again?" she croaked softly in confusion.

"You went for a swim." The deathknight replied as she sat up slowly, holding the blanket to her with one hand. "I don't think you enjoyed it much, though. The water's mighty cold." The woman's dark brows drew together as she looked around slowly.

"I remember… the wave… going over the rail…" she ran a hand through her damp, tangled hair and took a deep breath. It whistled horribly in her throat and she coughed violently for a moment. "Ah, Light that hurts…" Again she took a breath, though not so deep this time "I don't think I've ever been that afraid… everything went black…"

"You'll feel like hell for a few days, but you should be alright." Necrucian told her. He was still soaked to the skin and water still dripped from his armour onto the floor. Taliah blinked and lay back down, staring at the ceiling for a moment.

"Why do I have this feeling…" She coughed again, not so harshly this time but her voice was hoarse as though she'd been strangled. "…that I owe you my life?"

"You spared my life at Light's Hope and made a sacrifice of blood to save me later, when I was close to the Final Death." The deathknight shrugged "As I see it, we are now even." Taliah closed her eyes for a long moment and shivered, her body temperature not yet normalized. Necrucian got up from the chair and brought the braziers closer before tucking the blankets around her form.

"You're just going to have to let me die next time… you save my ass again, and then I'll owe you." She laughed softly and coughed "This keeps up, we may never be rid of each other."

Necrucian grinned, but there was no malice in it "Don't tempt me, paladin." He jested "You're about the most difficult person I've ever had the misfortune of meeting."

Tahlia grinned and snuggled into the bed, pulling the blankets up to her chin "Aye, and you can't even throttle me until after I get you into Stormwind. You poor bastard."

"Are you still sickened by my actions during the battle with the Naga?" he asked earnestly. Necrucian wondered why he even cared. He may have raised the Naga dead, but it had won the day and spared the _Arcareena_ – did he really have anything to apologize for?

Taliah closed her eyes once more, the humour draining from her expression "I'm… not happy, if that's what you mean." She took a slow, deep breath, stopping when she felt the cough coming on "But do I want to gut you for what you did? Not anymore. I know why you did it, and your intentions were good enough. Still.." she stifled a cough "the ends can never justify the means, Nec."

The deathknight knew that was as much of an 'I forgive you' as he was going to get from the paladin, yet still he felt as though a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. "Sleep." He reached out and tucked a stray, lank lock of ebony hair behind her ear.

"…stay?" she croaked. Taliah remembered the feel of being utterly alone as she had thrashed in the black, frigid water and the though that she might be left alone in the room near terrified her.

"I'm not going anywhere, paladin." The deathknight replied softly.


	29. Chapter 29

Twenty-Nine.

Two days of sleep in the Captain's cabin did the paladin a world of good and after a day of meditative healing, her lungs improved, as did her breathing. When she finally was able to step out on the deck once more, the crew let off a cheer as she emerged from belowdecks. Her cheeks coloured in embarrassment and she thanked the Captain profusely, apologizing for putting him out of his quarters. "Tis alright lass. It was worth it just ta' see ye and the big lad speakin' again."

Necrucian had only left her side briefly while she'd been recuperating, and only while she was asleep. When she was well enough to be topside again, the paladin and the deathknight walked the deck together, as they had when the voyage had first started. Ulrist, gruff but kindly man that he was, gave her an approving smile and nod, and her brows drew together in suspicion. "Why is it I keep thinking I'm the butt of some obscure joke or conspiracy." Taliah muttered. "And why do they keep looking at us like I've been doing more with you than hacking up a lung for three days?"

"Lich only knows how long they've been at sea." The deathknight shrugged. "Though now that it doesn't look as though you're going to behead me, there seems to be a lot less tension on the ship."

"I never said I'd behead you." She replied indignantly "I said 'gut'. There's a difference."

The weather began to warm as the weeks stretched on, going from early winter to early spring the further south they went. One morning, Taliah pointed out a wall of distant, snowy peaks a few leagues off their port side to the Captain. "That there be the dwarf Kingdom, lass." He replied to the paladin's query. "With fair weather an' a followin' sea, we be two weeks from Stormwind."

"Why is it getting warmer? Is it not winter here as well?" Taliah was dressed more lightly than when they'd left Southshore, only three of layers of felt and wool instead of five, plus a cloak. "I've never been farther south than Southshore."

"Nay, lass. As Azeroth travels 'round the sun, she tilts on her axis. When her upper half be tilted 'ward the sun, the North gets summer, when she tilts away, tis winter." The captain explained using his index fingers to map the rotation of Azeroth, the left fingertip, and the sun, which was his right. The paladin blinked and her brow furrowed, trying to wrap her head around the concept. The Captain looked at the woman dubiously. "Yer schoolin' didn't cover much past prayin' and the most efficient way to dismember something, did it?" Jarvas chuckled as he took a deep draw on his pipe, the pungent smoke blowing out his nostrils in twin streams.

"I learned a good deal more than that." She replied somewhat stiffly "I learned the lines of the best destrier blood in Lordaeron, how to dress wounds, works of literature." Taliah found herself running out of skills. "How to mend armour and equipment... how to forage... er..." She worried her lower lip with her teeth "And the blessing and dismembering part." the paladin conceded in a mutter. "I'm a horse-soldier. I've had no need or opportunity to be anything else."

The Captain laughed good-naturedly "Ain't got much use for horses m'self. I was glad enough when ye didn't insist on bringin' a pair along." The old man scratched at his thick white and ginger beard "If ye be needin' horses when we arrive, there be a man who runs a liv'ry not far from the docks. Claims to be a distant, distant cousin o the Fordragon, so I not be certain he can be trusted not to try and sell ye a-"

"Fordragon?" the paladin blinked in surprise "_Bolvar_ Fordragon?"

"Aye, that be the only Fordragon I know o' in Stormwind." the Captain said, his teeth clenched around his pipe. "I guess ye'v heard o' him."

Taliah looked positively giddy "Heard of him? The man is a legend! The last of the 'great' paladins, besides Fordring. Bloody hell… Have you ever seen the man? Do you think he'll be in Stormwind?" Her words came out in an uncharacteristic rush, like a smitten schoolgirl.

Jarvas threw back his head and laughed so loud that crewmen actually stopped and looked at the pair at the port rail and Taliah turned crimson. She cleared her throat and recovered her dignity. "I never seen the man, girl. At least I know ye has some womanly emotions in there somewhere." The old man grinned and just patted her paternally on the shoulder "No shame in it lass. Yer a pretty young thing, don't think me crew ain't noticed. Ye should be findin' a good man, settlin' down somewhere quiet and get yourself some youngins', not goin' off t'get yerself killed."

"It's not only men who can take up arms to defend their country, Captain." Taliah looked to the distant snowy mountains as the ship slid through the water. "The man I pledged myself to is was killed in battle, and I have a foundling waiting for me back in Southshore in my mother's care. When this is all over, Light willing, I'll return there." Her face was an emotionless mask and Jarvas realized he'd perhaps overstepped.

The ships bell struck three and the Captain looked up at the blessedly clear sky. "He must've been a good man to tame yer heart, girl." When she did not reply, Jarvas strode off and left the paladin to her thoughts.

Days slipped by, the weather held and again Taliah became restless. The confining nature of the ship was beginning to make it feel like a wooden prison and she now knew how Valiant felt after spending too long in a stall. The paladin spent her early mornings on the quarterdeck, Peacemaker glinting in the dawn as she practiced to keep her skills from getting rusty. Necrucian would sometimes join her, though they could never get as physical as a true test of skill, lest an errant blade damage one of the crew or some other vital piece of nautical equipment. Sometimes one of the crew would challenge the paladin or the deathknight in jest, but none of them were a match for either. It was enough to break a sweat, but that was all.

Finally just as the Captain had predicted, two weeks after Taliah had pointed out the distant mountains of Dun Morogh, the call came from the crow's nest. "Stormwind Harbour on the horizon, Cap'n!". Taliah was standing in her usually place on the quarterdeck when the call went up and midday, and she wasn't sure whether she was elated or miserable. She was leaving one prison for another, or so it felt. The paladin had never been before royalty, other than Arthas who never seemed to like to rub in the fact his blood was blue. She'd never been in a city larger than Stratholme. By all accounts she'd heard, Stormwind was many times the size of the now ruined northern city. The thought of all those walls and all those people within them was intimidating to one who'd known little more than wide-open spaces for the better part of ten years.

Necrucian watched the harbour grow closer and knew it would be nightfall before the ship was docked and moored, provided the busy port even had a berth open. Taliah, who'd inquired after parchment and quill from the Captain, had sequestered herself in his cabin for over an hour and returned, slipping something into the sleeve of her tunic. "Ulrist will be going ashore with a pair of men on one of the jolly-boats to get their berth assignment. We'll be going with them." The paladin was dressed in her drab armour and a fresh cloak. "Keep your cowl down, we don't want to scare the living piss out of the watch when we hit the beach."

Necrucian laughed, a hollow, eerie sound, and unpleasant to those not used to it. "Are you expecting trouble?"

"Only the usual." Taliah replied. Nothing showed on her face, but Necrucian had been with her long enough to know when the woman was discomfited but hiding it. Others would have been fooled by her calm, almost cold exterior, but not the deathknight.

"That bad, eh?" Necrucian crossed his arms over his chest "Think they'll just run me through and ask questions later?"

"No." her reply was firm. "They'll have to go through me first."


	30. Chapter 30

Thirty.

Ulrist was the first out of the jolly-boat and he hauled the bow onto the pebbly beach, offering his hand to Taliah as she put a foot to the gunwale and then onto the first dry land she'd put a boot on in two months. She wanted to go to her knees and kiss the beach. The paladin had paid the Captain generously with coin her mother had foisted on her, making sure each of the hands had an equal share, and the men had given her and the deathknight a warm send-off. Jarvas had kissed her scarred knuckles and bid her to take care of herself and 'the big lad', as he always referred to the deathknight. After thanking Ulrist one final time, Taliah and Necrucian took their leave of the _Acareena_ and her crew.

The harbour glittered in the darkness, the hundreds of lanterns casting everything in a warm, golden glow. The berths were packed and crews still offloaded cargo under the watchful eyes of the dockhands and the city guards. The two soldiers hadn't taken more than a dozen steps before they were challenged.

"You two came in on the gig, did you not?" the man's voice was so ostentatious that Taliah disliked him immediately. Necrucian, once again the silent, cloaked mountain at her back, said nothing as the man, wearing the surcoat of a junior lieutenant and flanked by two men of lower rank, drew nearer. The harbour guards wore armour of polished steel with lacquered blue trim, full helms and blue cloaks and looked like they'd just come out of a regimental inspection.

"Aye." Taliah replied gravely and produced the folded, sealed parchment missive from her sleeve. "I must speak with the watch commander, immediately." Her tone left no doubt that she would not be denied. "I have news of the utmost importance for His Majesty."

"Give me your missive, and I'll judge it's worth." The lieutenant sniffed "The Commander of the Watch is busy."

"Then make him un-busy, you idiot." Taliah stood tall, her stance almost as arrogant as the target of her growing ire. "I don't have time to banter with some politically appointed boy-officer." She took a step forward and though she had to look up, she got into the man's face. "Delay me one second longer than absolutely necessary and I'll be sure to have Lord Fordragon clap your arse in irons." The last came out as a growl and the woman's eyes flared white. The junior lieutenant, a summer or two younger than the paladin herself, took a step back, his eyes wide.

"And... uh.. whom shall I say needs speak to the Commander?" The man swallowed audibly.

"Tell him a Knight of the Silver Hand has a message for the King." Taliah replied as though the answer should have been painfully obvious. The lieutenant turned to the man on his left, whispered something and the guard left at a hasty trot.

When the watch commander arrived on a galloping courser, Taliah felt a little better. "What the hell is the meaning of this?" the man was gruff and while his armour was brightly polished and sporting Captain's braiding from the shoulder, the scabbard at his hip was weathered and worn. The paladin liked this man better.

"Captain." Taliah saluted him respectfully "I have come from Lordaeron to deliver an urgent message from Lord Tirion Fordring. I must speak with His Royal Highness immediately."

Captain Fernan Gyrus dismounted. He wasn't a big man but he was broad through the shoulders and chest. He wore no helm and the sea ruffled his short, greying hair. A thin, puckered scar ran just above his right eyebrow down to his jaw, and whatever had made it had also robbed the man of his site in that eye. From the way the man held himself, Taliah didn't think that the lack of an eye bothered the man overmuch. "Let me see your face, girl." Taliah pulled back her hood as the Captain took the lantern from the now much more humble lieutenant. "What's your name."

Taliah pulled her hood back, her intense gaze locking with the Captain's and the man's brow furrowed slightly. "You're awful young to be of the Silver Hand, girl. You've seen what, twenty-two winters?" Gyrus' voice was deeply suspicious.

"Twenty-one of the longest winters I care to recall, Captain." Taliah replied "I served with Gavinrad at Anderhal and Vargus at the Sunwell. I serve Lord Fordring now." She held up the missive "The False King stirs once more." The Captain's eyes widened and he took the sealed missive.

"I will deliver this to His Majesty myself, my Lady." Gyrus put a foot to his courser's stirrup and swung up. "He will judge the worth of it. Lieutenant Sarne, take the paladin and her escort off the beach and keep them out of the public eye." With a jerk of the reins, the Captain spun his mount and Taliah listened the crack of shod hooves on cobbles grow fainter as the horse and rider disappeared into the night.

The lieutenant seemed to forget his earlier attitude and led them from the beach to a small barracks to wait. It was made of stone and mortar, with two stories and multiple hearths, only one of which was lit. Taliah accepted a cup of tea from one of the guards while Necrucian shook his cloaked head when offered the same.

"The Captain…" Necrucian spoke in a low whisper as he and Taliah stood at the hearth. They were alone but for the lieutenant and his two companions, though they were across the room. "He's a son of Lordaeron."

"Aye." The paladin replied softly "His accent was thick enough to be of Stratholme or Havenshire. Anyone from the North knows 'The False King'."

To Taliah the wait seemed interminable long, and it was a full bell before a great clatter of shod hooves thundered up to the barracks yard. The Captain burst in the door and Taliah could hear the team of horses snorting and blowing outside. "A coach has been sent for you and your companion, my lady. You are to take it at once. His Majesty awaits."

The paladin thanked the Captain and pulled up the hood of her cloak once more, stepping out into the chill night. A team of six lovely greys stood tossing their heads, a covered coach behind them. Two additional riders, wearing light armour and carrying lanterns sat atop bay coursers and stood near the lead pair of horses. Gyrus opened the door and offered his hand and helped her inside, Necrucian embarking behind her. The carriage was well appointed but empty, save for the paladin and the deathknight, and as soon as the door closed, the driver was away at a trot. Though it was night, the curtains were drawn inside the coach, and Taliah was thankful for it. A small lantern inside lit the interior with warm, gentle light and the paladin ran her finger over the gold-gilt window frame. The seats were blue velvet with silver piping and Taliah resisted the urge to put her sandy boots upon them. "This is royal livery…" Necrucian commented, looking up at the ceiling and noting the meticulously hand painted hunting-scene depiction thereon. "I didn't think Fordring's name carried that much weight down in the Southlands."

Taliah said nothing and three-quarters of a bell passed before the coach stopped. The door opened and a palace guard in resplendent livery awaited them. He saluted Taliah but cast an unsure eye at Necrucian, still concealed in his cloak, and conducted them to two immense, gilt-and-ivory doors. No one challenged them or asked questions and the doors were opened immediately to receive them. They were ushered quickly past the foyer and their steps were loud in the marble halls of the palace. It was late and the corridors were mostly deserted, for which Taliah was immensely thankful. When they got to the Throne Room, they were directed through a door behind the throne itself, though at first glance it seemed only a part of the marble wall itself. It opened into smaller, more intimate receiving room, and in the center stood Varian Wrynn.

It was obvious that he'd been awakened for the occasion, as he wore nothing more ceremonial than a simple white tunic of fine linen and a pair of calfskin beaches. A hand-and-a half rode the scabbard at his hip. Brawny arms crossed over his chest, his scarred face wore a profound scowl. The paladin and the deathknight drew within six paces and then took a knee, bowing their heads to the King of Stormwind.

"This had better be good." Wrynn looked down at the two cloaked figures. "Where is Tirion Fordring's message?" Bolvar Fordragon stood a few paces behind the King, hastily dressed in a brown linen tunic and green wool breaches and Taliah had to remind herself not to stare at the man. Beside her, Necrucian slowly got to his feet.

"Your Majesty, I am the message." He pulled back his cowl, revealing his grey face, pale hair and glowing blue eyes. "I am Necrucian, former minion of the Lich King, now a freed man and emissary for the Knights of the Ebon Blade, and I bring dire news from the North."

Varian cursed and there was a collective gasp from the other men in the room. Wrynn's sword cleared leather as did those of his guards, but Taliah stepped between the King and the deathknight. "Let the deathknight speak." She growled, her face concealed by the dark cloak she wore and her voice was commanding though her heart hammered in her chest. Wrynn's eyes narrowed and his empty hand came up, ordering his guards to sheath their weapons. The men, Bolvar included, looked at each other in confusion before they obeyed.

"The Lich King marshalled ten-thousand undead and attacked Light's Hope Chapel, simply to draw out Tirion Fordring. In his hubris, he underestimated the power of the consecrated ground he lay siege to, and his cadre of First Knights were freed. The Ashbringer is once more in the hands of the Righteous, and Arthas was driven off." The deathknight said "I have been tasked by Highlord Mograine and Tirion Fordring to warn you of the doom that rises in the North, and to lend whatever tactical aid is required. Tirion believes the Lich King will strike the Eastern Kingdoms, and soon. We were ambushed at Tarren Mill my Liege, and the dispatches I was tasked to give only to you were taken by the Forsaken. I was under orders to commit their contents to memory, and I have."

The King turned to his guards "Highlord Bolvar. Tomorrow we will meet in the War Room, but for tonight, make sure the deathknight receives whatever he requires. Have the chamberlain find him suitable quarters. He is a guest of the Crown and will be treated as such." The men snapped-to and Necrucian gave Taliah a wary look as he was escorted away. Bolvar looked questioningly to his King but bowed before following the deathknight from the chamber. When the receiving room had emptied, the King sheathed his sword and the silence in the room grew oppressive.

"It has been a long journey, Your Highness." Taliah finally spoke, wanting nothing more to do with the room or the man inside it, though she somehow managed to keep her tone neutral "I have fought Scourge, Forsaken, Seasickness and Naga to bring the deathknight before you, and my duty is done. By your leave, I will retire to an inn." Wrynn stepped forward and reached out, pushing back the cowl that concealed her face. Taliah did not raise her head to look at the man, only glowered from beneath her brows.

"You have your mother's face." The King said with a rueful smile. He reached out a calloused, scarred-knuckled hand to touch the young woman's face, but she pulled back, her eyes flashing in warning. Their grey eyes locked; while she may have had her mother's cheekbones, her eyes, ebon hair and chin were all her father's. He was not as her mother had described – this man was scarred, his eyes intense like those of a bird of prey, not the smooth faced one with expressive eyes her mother remembered. "You came all this way only leave?"

"Why should I not?" She replied coolly. "You did. I am merely carrying on the tradition." Her words were like a slap in the face, and whatever Wrynn had expected from her, this had obviously not been it. "I thank you, belatedly, for the fine sword and destrier you gave me on my tenth birthday, King Varian. They have both served me well. And now, by your leave, I will be gone."

"You don't have my leave to go." Wrynn replied firmly "Does it pain you that much to call me 'father'?"

"You are blood. It doesn't make you family. The only 'father' I had died at Anderhal, when Arthas shoved three feet of cursed blade through his chest." Taliah's words near froze the air "Why is this so fucking important to you?"

"Do you not think I haven't wondered every day for the last ten years if you were still alive? Until three years ago, your mother didn't even know!" Varian ran a hand over his scarred face in frustration. This was not how he'd wanted things to go.

"The only family I had died on the battlefield when Arthas came back from Northrend." She snapped back in reply "I have reconciled with my mother; you were the one who told her I would not be safe outside of the Silver Hand's protection. _You_ damned me to this life!" her voice lowered to a growl "And while you have been living in this-" the paladin gestured disdainfully to the richly appointed room "I have been fighting for a dead king in a dead country that everyone but the Argent Dawn has forgotten about."

"You have no idea what I've been through the last ten years, Taliah." Wrynn's temper was fraying and the two stood toe-to-toe glaring at each other "But this is not the time to speak of this. Will you take quarters in the Palace, or will you run from this like a coward?" The paladin's lips pulled back from her straight, white teeth in a silent snarl as she bristled.

"Be thankful you are a King." The young woman grated "The last man to question my honour got a broken nose for his troubles."

"There will be a steward in the Throne Room awaiting you. He will show you to your quarters." Taliah turned on her heel without a word in reply and walked off with angry strides, slamming the heavy door behind her.


End file.
